Better Not Look Down
by Bora Olldashi
Summary: Sookie is heading to England to meet a fellow fanfic addict, er, writer, and attend a sci-fi vampire convention. She's dying to meet her favorite actors from the show that spawns the stories she writes, but she never bargained for this adventure. AH/AU.
1. In For A Penny

**CH/AB own all this stuff. Except for Sookie's awesome new 'do.**

Sookie took a deep breath and a good look around. She was pretty sure she had everything. She thought through the checklist in her mind. Toothbrush, shampoo, underwear. Deodorant, contact solution. Passport. Adapters from her trip to India. She was gripped with the familiar vague worry she often suffered from as she wondered whether or not the adapters would work in Germany. _I guess I'll find out_, she thought ruefully before she suddenly remembered a castle being blown up by just such negligence in a rom-com she'd seen a few years back. She shook her head to clear it of the thought and decided she'd cross (or burn, whatever the case may be) that bridge when she came to it.

As she maneuvered her car down the driveway toward the main road, she couldn't believe she was actually doing this. Going to England, across the freaking ocean, to meet up with a woman (sweet Shepherd of Judaea, please let it actually be a woman) that she'd never met in real life to attend a convention. A sci-fi convention. About vampires, no less. She wasn't sure when her life had taken this sad little turn, but she was securely swept up in the wave and it was too late to analyze it now. The trip was already paid for and she was thrifty, if nothing else. No way was she going to waste all that money now.

Not to mention the fact that she was stupid excited about the damn convention. The thought of anything going wrong to prevent her from getting there was enough to start back on that ulcer in her stomach. Not that she'd been actually diagnosed with one, but she had a feeling it was there. Her favorite, like _favorite _favorite, actors were going to be there and even if she didn't have the nerve to approach them for a handshake or a signature, she was pretty sure just knowing she was under the same roof, breathing the same air, would be enough to knock her out cold in a fangirl stupor.

She'd climbed aboard the vampire boat a little over a year ago. Well, in truth she had been utterly obsessed with the whole sparkly vamp craze and that outlandishly popular series of books, but felt she was a little too old for them, so she was reluctant to make her obsession known. That's why when she'd found the cable television show based on a series of books that was nothing if not 'adult viewing material', she'd really gone nuts with it.

She read all the books, bought all the dvd box sets that had been for sale and anxiously awaited each new episode. Hell, she'd even joined Twitter so she could follow the actors from the damn show. The only downside was that the time between the end of a season and the sale of it's boxed set was agony. Not to mention that the books were rolling out at a sloth's pace and steadily decreasing in amazing-ness, at least in her opinion.

Enter fan fiction.

One afternoon, she'd been Googling something about one of the characters, trying to iron out a discussion that she was having with one of the girls at work, when she saw an interesting link. Clicked it. Found fan fiction. Almost peed her pants. Sure, some of it was total crap that was a grammatical nightmare and achingly without plot. But some of it was amaaaaazing. As is the way with such things, it wasn't long before she'd started writing her own story. And she found fans. One, in particular, that she'd struck a friendship of sorts up with and was flying halfway around the world to meet. They read the same kind of stories, liked the same characters, even partnered up and wrote a fic together. One day in the chatroom they frequented, someone had mentioned the convention and the next thing she knew, she was confirming payments on the trip. Yes, it was a little crazy but after her last failed relationship, a little crazy was exactly what she'd needed.

She wasn't upset that things hadn't worked out for her own sake, because she really didn't feel like she needed a relationship in the first place. She valued her 'alone' time, hated making plans and was horrible at keeping them. She liked to have her options open and not be held responsible for someone else's happiness. Not to mention that marriage and children were not in her plans. After her parents had died, she'd lost what little interest she'd had in making a life like theirs. She'd decided it'd be much better to go it alone and that's exactly what she planned to do. Though she didn't mind a little company now and again, which is how she ended up in relationships. She was always open with guys, telling them she didn't want a commitment, or an engagement ring, or any of that. Usually on the first date. She had a funny feeling that most of them thought that was just a line she used to reel them in though, because it always ended up with them wanting more than she did.

So she'd vowed to make a change and had ended up making quite a few. She'd given up her apartment in Shreveport and bought a house, for one. A lovely old house on the outskirts of Bon Temps, from the sweetest old lady she'd ever met. The woman's name was Adele but she'd insisted on being called Gran. None of Sookie's own grandparents had been alive by the time she was born, so it was an unexpected surprise when she'd formed such a close bond with the woman. She'd said she was too old for the upkeep and planned to move into a neat little apartment with her cat, Tina. Since the closing four months back, they'd fallen into a routine.

Sookie would pick her up every Saturday afternoon to do her 'running about' in Shreveport, which consisted of the market, the pharmacy, the library and the cemetery. She'd stroll the grounds with her and stop by Gran's husbands grave. The first time had been a little spooky for her, when the woman had sat down on a bench nearby and started talking out loud to her late husband, Earl. She'd even introduced Sookie to him, telling him that she was the spitting image of their own dearly departed grandbaby, Hadley. After that, though, she'd gotten used to it and used the time to mentally arrange her plans for the following week.

Gran also came over to Sookie's every Sunday to make her dinner. It had started out with just the two of them. Then as Sookie told her friends about it, they'd gradually started stopping by until eventually it'd turned into a big old weekly event. Sookie's oldest friends, Lafayette, Tara and Jessica, were there every week come hell or high water. Depending on the severity of their hangovers, Hoyt and Jason usually showed up too. Hoyt was a high school sweetheart of Sookie's, but they'd always been better friends than anything. Jason was Hoyt's best friend and also one of Sookie's friends from school. The thing about growing up in a small town was that you never really got away from the people you did the growing up with. Sookie was okay with that, though.

They were all good people and really, they were the only family she had. After her parents passed when she was 15, she stayed with her Aunt Linda until she was legal. Then she'd rented a tiny apartment from Sam Merlotte, working every chance she got at his restaurant to boot, while she put herself through online courses. She'd been so lucky to land a job at her company, working in healthcare. Her degree didn't have much to do with the work they did, but she was bright and worked hard. She'd been there for just about six years and had been promoted every single one of them. She was training folks now, which meant she got to travel some and see new things. She also made damn good money and was able to tuck a bit back, as well as buy the house and live comfortably from pay to pay.

After deciding to buy the house, she'd also let Lafayette give her a makeover. He was the go-to hairdresser in Bon Temps, with clients driving down from Shreveport to have him fix their hair. When he'd made her pinky promise to give him free reign, she got a slight case of the bubble guts. After he finished, she passed out. Just slumped over right in her chair, with the cape on and the whole nine yards. When she came to, she didn't know whether to cry or jump for joy. He'd cut her hair off. All of it. Off. She'd had long blonde locks, reaching past her shoulders, which he had cut off into what he told her was a pixie cut.

She'd told him there was only one fairy between them and it sure wasn't her, but damn if it didn't look good. And she had to admit that nary a day went by that she didn't have it all tied up in a ponytail or bun anyway. She had stared at herself in every reflective surface for about two weeks solid after that, amazed by how much she loved it short. She'd been to see him once a month for trims ever since. She was also pleased to note that quite a few celebrities were trying the look out as of late, just as Laff had predicted. She really shouldn't doubt the man. Wouldn't be surprised if he was some kind of psychic, with all the trend prediction he did.

The last change she'd made was no dating. Poor Quinn had been so heartbroken when she told him it wasn't working that she decided she needed to cool off for a while. This left her with a good bit of free time. In addition to her fan fiction fascination, she'd picked up running to fill some of it. She'd started out walking with her iPod, just to get out of the house. Then she started jogging. Then she started looking for tips online and now she ran every day after work. She loved it, loved the feeling of the road pounding away beneath her feet, the good honest sweat she worked up while she did it, and the feeling of accomplishment after she made it home.

So far, everything seemed to be working out with her single life and she was hoping the trip would be a resounding success. And that she wouldn't be cut up into little pieced and mixed into plaster to fill holes in some crackhouse in England. Provided England had crackhouses. She obviously had a few qualms about not being totally up front with her friends about the trip. She'd wanted to tell somebody what she was actually doing, you know, just in case. But she'd learned quickly that not a lot of folks she knew were really on board with fan fiction.

She didn't understand why people freaked out so much. It wasn't like she'd joined a cult that skinned puppies for fun or kidnapped people for torture. So she was writing things that would never get published, put her face on magazines or make her any kind of money. Big deal! She still liked it. Same as Hoyt and Jason's obsession with football. Neither of them were ever going to make it to the major league, or whatever the hell it was called, but that didn't stop them from playing every chance they got.

Sookie had been pretty vague with the details when she'd relayed the information regarding this trip. With her job, she did travel from time to time, so it wasn't a shock to anyone that she'd be out of town. Gran was housesitting for her, and Laff had volunteered to come check in every couple days. She knew he'd cut the grass for her and make sure Gran got to town to do her shopping while Sookie was gone. Nobody had thought to ask why she was going, or who she was going with. They'd only asked where. So she hadn't volunteered anything (especially not after all her friends started referring to her as Your Majesty and adopting fake English accents). It was probably a stupid thing to do, but she'd left a copy of her itinerary on top of the fridge. Hopefully that would help if anything happened.

As she slid her sunglasses on, she decided not to sweat it. With the click of a button, both windows of her car rolled down. She felt the wind through her short hair and smiled as she made her way down the road. The sun was shining and she was off to share some air with the hottest Swede she'd ever seen.

Life was good.

**This happened by accident. Our regional systems were down at work today and since I forgot my friggin' Nook at home, I couldn't read. I really didn't mean to do this but it came out so I figured I'd post it. And VGTTG is definitely still going, but I get so involved in writing that, I didn't want to start at the office. New update for that this weekend. Let me know what you think of this one, Idk if it's worth continuing but I have a few ideas. Thanks for reading!**


	2. In For A Pound

**Thanks for reviewing, ladies =) I'm liking this one, it's fun and easy to write. Plus I have a clear plan now, so I might just keep cranking them out til it's done. HUGE thank you to LadyH for assisting me with the slang and fashion in the wonderful UK =) Hope you guys like this! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

Amelia woke from her nap with a start, snapping her head up suddenly. Leave it to her to fall asleep at the airport, with her purse lying right on her lap. Might as well have had a sign pointing at her, 'Purse here for the pinching, don't mind the cabbage it's attached to.' She shook her head, taking note of her surroundings. God, she was knackered. She hadn't been getting very regular sleep lately, thanks to her newest addiction. Granted, fan fiction was much less harmful to her person than the things she'd tinkered with in the past as part of her never ending campaign to drive her father round the bend, but it was difficult when a lot of the chatting took place at odd hours. Mostly because the main hours were based in the States.

She'd found herself up until 4 a.m. sometimes, because the conversation just got too interesting. Ah well, she'd always been a night owl anyway. Plus it annoyed her father no end that she slept well into the afternoon sometimes. Win/win, as it were. Besides, she was so into the whole vampire thing, it was a bit ridiculous. She couldn't stay away if she tried. She'd first been hooked on the book series, recommended to her by one of the girls in the Wiccan circle she's been participating in off and on. Octavia, her name was. She'd devoured the books, ten in less than a week. Then she found there was a cable television series based on the books and she'd been glued to the box for three days straight while she caught up on the seasons.

And that's when she found fan fiction. She loved to read, she always had. Combine that with the slight addictive edge she had to her personality and bam! She was hooked. When she'd initially found it, she'd read constantly; she'd been like a woman possessed. Within a week or so, she had found a group of friends that she loved to converse with and shifted much of her social life online. She didn't mind that a bit, though. The friends she had in real life were mostly money hungry vultures, pecking around for handouts whenever they could get them. That usually didn't bother her much. It had always been the way of things for her.

Her father, Copley Carmichael, was obscenely wealthy. Their family came from old money and Copley was a shrewd investor. He was also an arrogant, high handed, spoiled brat of a man, in Amelia's opinion. She loved him, of course. But mainly she got annoyed with him, tired of his preaching, and got her jollies mostly by dreaming up innovative new ways to vex him. She tried to stay out of the smut magazines, though, not wanting to do any actual damage to the family name. Most of the time, she was able to do just that, since the shade of her hair changed quicker than her moods. That made it a bit difficult for the paparazzi to identify her, despite the fact that she was right under their noses more often than they realized.

To say her sex life was voracious would be an understatement. She hadn't ever been shy with the fellows, and in the past couple of years had begun to explore the ladies as well. She knew she had a reputation of being a tart but she didn't think it was a bad thing. In fact, most of the people calling her names were just jealous. After all, she'd been with more than her fair share of models. And actors. Singers, even. Oh, and professional athletes. The odd producer, to spunk things up a bit.

In any case, she was just having fun, and she was always careful about it. In her opinion, it was nobody's business but her own. Although, after that last debacle, even she had to admit that maybe it was time to cool off for a bit. Though, in her defense, she hadn't realized what she was doing until it was already done.

She'd met Claude at some soiree her father had insisted she attend. She'd been sitting there, twirling the straw of her fifth John Collins, when she glanced up and caught him looking at her. He was tall, he was dark, and he was sexy. She'd thrown back the rest of her drink and left with him ten minutes later. They'd enjoyed a wild weekend together and that was that. The following weekend, though, she'd met a lovely woman. Didn't get her name until they'd hit the sheets a couple of times. Claudine. Claude's twin.

Amelia wasn't really a sensitive person by nature, but sleeping with siblings (twins, no less!) was something she hadn't really planned on doing. Like, ever. As soon Claudine had said her name, realization struck. The resemblance was uncanny and Amelia felt a little queasy. She'd made a hasty exit and vowed to be more discerning in the future.

Anyway, her latest thing was fan fiction. Which was why she was sitting in Brackley Airport, Northamptonshire, waiting for a fellow fangirl to arrive. They were headed to the Drained Campaign, and she had to admit she was had a touch of the collywobbles over the whole affair. She hoped the girl wasn't some Quasimodo beast or deranged serial killer but at the same time, she was really jazzed to go to the convention.

Her own flight from London had landed nearly two hours ago. It was so silly that the flight was only about an hour long when a drive would have taken most of the day. The girl, Sookie, should be arriving any minute. Amelia glanced down at herself, taking inventory one last time.

Everything she had on had come from Punky Fish; she'd had a bit of a spree on their website. She smoothed down the gray knit dress she had on and adjusted the bright pink belt just under her ribcage. She crossed a leg, inspecting the hot pink heel on her foot. In the way of accessories, she'd added some bulky pearls in a matching hue on one wrist and around her throat. Her hair was currently dark, nearly black, with a layer of fuschia underneath. This she had in bouncy curls falling past her shoulders. She nodded slightly at herself in approval, and shifted the floppy pink purse on her lap over to the seat next to her. She glanced up and her eyes focused onto the best ass she'd seen in months.

The jeans were Rock Revival. She'd know the brand anywhere having lived in them practically the whole time she'd been in the States during college. They were a faded blue color and had riveted cross detailing on both flap pockets. There was a thin gap of tanned skin showing between them and a ribbed white tank top. The girl had a leather bag slung across her body and as she turned, Amelia realized her front matched her back with the tease of phenomenal cleavage showing.

The girl was stunning. She had on barely any makeup but with bone structure like that, who needed it? Her hair was cropped close to her head and showed a rainbow of blonde hues, with a pair of Aviators perched on top. She pursed dusky pink lips in concentration, cerulean eyes scanning the area. When they landed on Amelia, they lit up in recognition.

Amelia cocked an eyebrow, not remembering this particular conquest, though clearly she must have made it at some point. She let a corner of her mouth pull up in a slight smile just before realizing this must be Sookie. She quickly dropped the tomcat act, knowing the woman was straight as an arrow. Somehow, when she'd told Amelia she was tan with short blonde hair, this wasn't the vision that came to mind.

She smiled fully now, standing up from her chair and starting across the way to meet her. Leave it to fate to room her up with the best looking broad she'd seen in quite a while. During her 'vow of celibacy', no less. She thought ruefully that was probably for the best, since she sincerely doubted that Sookie could be swayed. The chat conversations they'd had left no doubt to her sexual orientation.

_Then again,_ she thought, adding a bit more swagger to her walk, _I am a persistent little git._


	3. The Best Things In Life Are Free

**I feel like a ping pong ball between this and VGTTG but I'm having fun with both, so it's all good. Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/alerted/favorited this story. Hope you guys like this one. CH/AB own all of this stuff.**

Arriving at the airport was a little daunting, I'm not gonna lie. Luckily, though, I spotted Amelia almost immediately after I picked up my luggage. There was no mistaking her based on the description she'd given me online: Long hair, dark on top and pink underneath. Phenomenally built and painfully fashionable. I'd laughed at the time but realized now that it was spot on. Her hair was just as she'd described and I was pleased to note it actually looked super-cute. Especially with the pink accessories she was wearing. Her whole outfit, really, was freakin adorable and the girl did have a pretty nice build. As soon as I caught her eye, she walked right over. Or sauntered, however you wanna look at it.

"Sookie?" she asked, smiling in a pretty flirty way. Right, her door swung both ways. I nodded, extending my right hand. After she got in a good old fashioned eye fuck, she shook my hand firmly.

"You must be Amelia," I said warmly, smiling back at her.

"Isn't your accent adorable?" she said in a sultry tone. I couldn't help but laugh out loud. She definitely had some game, I'd give her that.

"I suppose I could say the same to you," I told her. "I could also tell you I'm straighter than a pine tree, but you know that already." Now it was her turn to laugh as she let go of my hand.

"Can't blame me for giving it a go," she chuckled. "You, my friend, are stunning."

"You're not so bad yourself," I told her. "But I just wanted to get that clear first thing."

"Fair enough," she answered, eyes twinkling. Up close, she was really quite beautiful. She had clear alabaster skin, like a china doll, and carmel colored eyes. All of her features (cheekbones, nose, chin) were very sharp but in a high fashion sort of way. I wouldn't be surprised if she said she was a model of some kind and I silently thanked Jesus that she wasn't the serial killer type. Or some demented hunchback with a voodoo doll in her back pocket. With the issue of sexual preference out of the way, we finished up exchanging pleasantries and headed for the shuttle. First item on the agenda was a rental car.

"Hopefully they've got something smart," Amelia said as we bounced along in the shuttle. I couldn't help but notice how wonderful she smelled up close and made a note to ask what her perfume was once we got to know each other a little better. Blurting something like that out after just meeting a person would be weird. I knew first hand, thanks to the IT guy at work. Bill was nice and all but his second day on the job, he'd made a point to tell me how 'alluring' he found my 'scent'. Creeper.

"As long as we don't get stuck in an actual Smart Car, I'm ok with pretty much anything," I responded lightly. Amelia chuckled.

"Good point," she agreed. As the shuttle pulled into it's spot, we grabbed our luggage and stepped off. As I followed her into the rental office, I tried to ease into the situation. I wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but I was borderline overwhelmed. Not that I was a stranger to travel, I'd gone plenty of places for work. But when I went on those trips, I always had a specific location with a specific goal. I would go to the office I was training at, meet up with people I'd worked with via phone and virtual meetings, and come home. Bing, bang, boom. This was so different.

With Amelia, I felt like we knew each other really well but also not at all. Plus it was my first time in England, I didn't have a professional schedule to stick to, and my only objective was to have fun. Well, and not get chopped up into little bits and mixed in with mortar. I hadn't had an issue with anxiety since my parents died but I was always a little awkward. A little uncertain. Even though anyone who knew me would argue that I was always in control. I worked hard to give that impression and honestly, most of the time I really was in control of everything. A control freak, even.

It was time for a mental pep talk. I was so not about to have an issue now. I was just gonna relax, take everything as it came, and have one hell of a trip. I shifted my weight as I stood behind Amelia at the Enterprise counter, focusing back on the here and now_. _ Amelia didn't seem to be ruffled a bit, she was smoothly confirming the details and requesting an upgrade to a nicer car. Surely she hadn't just said Lexus, had she? I shook my head and tried not to laugh at myself. All I heard for sure was the string of letters and numbers after the make, and of course it wasn't Lexus. Who rents a Lexus?

"Thank you, Miss Carmichael," the attendant said reverently, sliding a black credit card off of the counter. Which was weird, not only because the credit card was black (a thing of lore so lofty I had only heard tell of their existence in rap songs), but also because Amelia's last name was Broadway, not Carmichael. Or so she'd said. My mouth went dry and just as I was getting ready to run away screaming _Stranger Danger_, Amelia turned to me with a smug look on her face.

"Wait till you see this car. I have it in black and it is absolutely awe inspiring," she said with a smile. As she took in my expression, she frowned. "What is it?"

"Your name is Amelia Broadway," I murmured, shifting my shoulder bag around to the front like some sort of talisman. Or weapon. Honestly, I was prepared to use it as either. Once my words sunk in, Amelia laughed.

"Yes! I go by Broadway, which was my mothers maiden name. By law, though, it's Carmichael. After my dad. I just don't use Carmichael because I don't like to be associated with the family name most of the time," she explained. Just as I was about to ask why, she elaborated. "My father's filthy rich, you see. The name Carmichael tends to put people on alert."

I thought about it for a second and decided it that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. I could see how it might be a pain to be treated a certain way because of factors you couldn't control, so I nodded in acceptance and let out a sigh. "Just don't kill me, ok?" I blurted before I could even think. Amelia threw her head back and laughed. After a moment, I started giggling too.

"I was worried _you_ were going to kill _me_!" Amelia said between chuckles. "But I hereby solemnly swear that I will not instigate, facilitate, aid, or abet your murder," she finished soberly. She held her right hand up, oath style. I fought a smile as I raised my own right hand in return.

"Or dismemberment," I added. Amelia snorted.

"Or dismemberment."

Just then a lovely purring noise came vibrating through the ground under their feet and we both spun to the window of the office. Sitting there was the sexiest piece of machinery I had ever laid eyes on. It was silver, it was shiny, and it screamed _drive me_. Maybe roared was a better word. Yes, it definitely roared _drive me_.

"Ah there you are, you beautiful bastard," Amelia sounded like she was greeting an old lover. I couldn't help but smile at Amelia's clear appreciation of the car.

"What is it?" I asked in an awed whisper, fully aware that I sounded like Nemo's buddies when he touched the butt. I couldn't help it, though, it really was awe inspiring.

"That, darling, is a Lexus LFA," she answered reverently. I made an appreciative sound as I stared at the gunmetal glory in front of me. I wasn't a car person, per se, but it really was a beautiful bastard.

Although, I wasn't sure how I felt about Amelia upgrading without consulting me first. After a moments deliberation, though, I decided to let it slide. I had already paid my half of the car rental, and if Amelia wanted to upgrade to an absurdly expensive vehicle and foot the bill, that was her business. Besides, she would be the one doing the bulk of the driving anyway. I wouldn't refer to myself as a good driver on a slow day in Bon Temps. I had no desire to try her hand in another country. Something did strike me as odd, though.

"Um, Amelia? If this is what you drive in real life, doesn't it kind of tip people off that you've got money?" I asked. Amelia looked over her shoulder at me as she was stuffing a suitcase in the tiny back of the car.

"Of course, but they still don't know where it comes from or how much I have. They don't know whether I'm an heiress or a porn actress. I much prefer it that way," she answered before turning back to her task. I smiled and shook my head. "And before you ask, I told you because I don't want you on edge for your whole trip thinking I'm a Russian mob princess or something."

"Fair enough," I nodded, walking around to load my bags on the passenger side. Which was weird because it should have been the drivers side but whatever. A few minutes later, we were strapped in the car. Or fighter pilot, which is what the interior looked like.

"Locked and loaded," Amelia muttered, shifting into gear. I slid my knock off Aviators down over my eyes and settled into the seat. It was a pretty bad ass car, I had to admit. Even before we were out of the airport parking lot, we'd drawn the stares of every person we passed. "So what say we get to the hotel, get checked in, and then go get something to eat?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," I agreed. Having been too giddy on the flight, I hadn't had anything to eat since I left Louisiana.

"Unless you're tired? I forgot about the jet lag," Amelia added, merging flawlessly into a turning lane. I shook my head.

"Nope, I'm good. Well, I mean, I am pretty beat but I would much rather get the trip started. I don't mind being a little tired if it means I don't miss a minute of action while I'm here," I explained. Amelia's mouth split into a Cheshire grin under her huge D&G sunglasses.

"That's a girl," she said approvingly, as she turned onto a busy street. I looked out my window, trying to take everything in. I examined all the buildings they passed, the people milling down the sidewalks, the traffic signs. For some reason, I had expected things to look foreign but everything looked pretty much the same as back home. Still, though, I tried to soak it in. I noticed that Amelia seemed to be familiar with the city, knowing just where to turn.

"I thought you were from London?" I asked, conversationally. I had given up my worries of being mutilated for the time being and was honestly just curious.

"I am," she answered. "But I've stayed in nearly every city in the country between traveling with my father when I was a girl and trying to annoy him after I came of age," she answered with a deviant smile.

"At the Ibis?" I asked, finding it odd that she or her father would have stayed at a thrifty hotel. She guffawed. Like, actually guffawed. I was previously unaware that people actually did that outside of novels.

"God, no. At the Marriott," she answered. "I changed our reservations a bit, I hope that's ok."

"What?" I exclaimed, instantly mad. "No, it's really not ok! I don't want to spend any more money on lodging, the reservations we had we were perfectly fine," I fumed. She looked genuinely confused for a moment.

"Sookie, it's no big deal. I don't expect you to pay for the upgrade. If I did, I would have run it past you first," she answered in a tone that suggested I was slow.

"Amelia, I am not in the habit of taking handouts and I do not intend to start now," I answered in a steely tone.I could feel my face getting red but I couldn't help it. Who does that? "Besides, I'm a firm believer that the best things in life are free."

"First of all, _that_ is a load of rubbish. I mean honestly. Secondly, I didn't mean to offend you. Honestly, I swear," she said, pulling into the Marriott port. "I suppose it was a bit presumptuous of me to do that without clearing it with you first. I guess I'm just a bit spoiled," she admitted. She seemed to be sincere. "Please don't be mad, it was not my intention to ruin your trip. Seriously though, you'd be doing me a huge favor by staying here with me. I can't stay at the Ibis, I simply can't." I cut my eyes to her, thinking that was a bit dramatic. She whipped her sunglasses off. "Seriously! And look, I swear I won't do anything like that again without consulting you first."

I twisted my mouth to the side, considering. She seemed like she was sorry. Technically, it wasn't like I had asked for her to pay for it. After a minute, I let out a sigh. "Ok, but seriously do not do that again!" She clapped her hands together in glee and laughed excitedly. I had to smile.

"Smashing! Let's get this holiday started!" she swung her door open and jumped out of the car. I shook my head and got out of my side, no less excited than she was. I flipped the seat up and reached for my luggage. "Leave it! They'll send a bellboy out to get it all," she called from the doorway.

"Of course," I muttered, stepping back and shutting the door.

This was going to take some getting used to.

**A/N Didn't mean to switch it up with the narration but it was SO hard for me to do third person with two she's. So we're gonna have to deal with first person for a while lol. Hope you guys liked this, short as it was. FYI I sincerely doubt that Lexus has a back seat or trunk of any kind (hard to tell on the website, which is as close as yours truly is ever gonna get to one) so just go with me on that, please. I've had the bright idea to incorporate songs into the chapters of this story (had a long youtube encounter last night, it happens). This one was Money (That's What I Want) by The Flying Lizards, if you're interested in checking it out. I plan to get another chapter posted either today or tomorrow. Thanks so much for reading =)**


	4. Jeepers Creepers

**Ok guys, this one has a couple of POV switches. I've decided that since only a few of you awesome mofo's are reading this, that you won't mind if I take some liberties with form. Right? Hehe? Lol I wanted to get a lot in without having to do separate chaps for each character. SO we hear from Eric, then Ame, then Sookie, then Eric again. I know, I'm all over the place with this one. Sorry about that! If it's too confusing let me know, I'll cut it out. But I think after this one, I can stick to mostly one character per chapter. I just wanted to get us all set up for the night out =) Hope you like this one! CH/AB own it all.**

_EPOV_

"I don't particularly care, Pam," I muttered into my phone. I was more concerned with getting my hotel door unlocked without dropping the two armloads of shit I was carrying than where she wanted to go drinking that evening. As the door swung open, I suppressed the impulse to exclaim in victory and tried to figure out what she was saying. Unfortunately, she was mid-stride in a sentence that apparently didn't make any sense without the front end attached. "Hold on, start over. I wasn't paying attention," I told her, kicking the door shut behind me with one foot and rushing to the desk in the room to unload my things.

"Unbelievable," she sighed. It was truly a gift, the way she could load a single word with enough sarcasm to incapacitate a fucking grizzly bear. Hands finally free, I launched myself backwards onto the huge bed and closed my eyes in bliss. "I was saying that I want to go to Lava something or other. I can't remember the exact name but apparently it's a pretty popular place. Ginger called ahead and reserved a suite for us, which is basically a windowed off VIP area. So if you get tired of being in the general population, we can go in there and drink. And still watch what everybody else is doing," she explained.

"Like some kind of creepy, drunk Discovery channel?" I asked, not sure I really liked the sound of that. She choked on whatever she was drinking.

"Precisely," she answered in a scratchy voice. She cleared her throat. "Thought it'd be right up your alley."

"How kind of you," I muttered.

"I thought so too. That way you can peruse the selection from a safe room, pick a 'date' for the night, and nobody gets hurt," she said this in a no-nonsense voice. I opened my eyes so I could roll them properly.

"Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to be in that head of yours," I told her in a wondering tone. She laughed.

"You couldn't handle it, boy scout. Be ready by eleven. I'm sending a car around for you," she informed me before hanging up the phone.

"Sounds great, thanks Pam. It's always a pleasure talking to you and I'm so glad our parents didn't stop after me. Being your brother has been the one true joy of my life. Yes, I love you too. Goodbye," I muttered sarcastically into my phone before letting it fall away from my ear. I rubbed a hand over my face and sat up on my elbows, looking around the hotel room. It was pretty basic. They all are, really. Desk, bed, dresser. Television, closet, shower. Granted, it was pretty decked out as far as hotel rooms go. The shower had glass walls with bamboo drapes over them and I could probably invite twenty friends into it with no space issues. The bed was a California king, which I appreciated due to my height. It was hard to get comfortable in regular sized beds, so I was thankful for that extravagance.

"I'm so fucking tired," I said out loud before groaning and falling back against the bed. I rolled onto one side and reached an arm out to the clock on the night stand. It was only four so if I set the alarm for ten, I could get in a good six hour nap and still wake up with plenty of time to take a shower and change for the bar. After a few seconds, I had the alarm set and was fumbling to get my jeans off. I was so tired, I forgot I had a belt on. Once I got that unbuckled, the pants came off without a hitch. I pulled my t-shirt off over my head and burrowed under the blankets in nothing but my boxer briefs. I was out before I even closed my eyes.

…

_APOV_

"Oh my God, I'm so full," Sookie groaned, writhing on her bed.

"You and me too," I answered, falling onto my own bed. I rubbed my stomach with both hands. "I've got a goddam food baby over here."

"Let's name him Steve," she snorted. I laughed out loud, recalling a chat conversation in which some of the girls were talking about food babies named Steve.

"Steve it is," I answered, groaning as I stretched. We had gone to Ask and after eating our respective body weight in pasta, we'd topped it off with dessert. Sookie had the Honeycomb Cheesecake and I'd had the Torte Al Limone. Frankly, I was surprised they didn't wheel us out of the place. The cigarette I'd smoked after we left was the best one of my life, and that includes every one I'd smoked after sex. Now if I could just get the digestive juices flowing, I'd be fine.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Sookie said in a sluggish voice. I didn't even turn my head to answer.

"Kay." I rolled onto my side and tucked my knees in. A massive yawn shook my frame and I mumbled something that was likely incoherent about just resting my eyes for a moment.

Sleep hit me like a ton of bricks.

…

_SPOV_

I could not believe the amount of food I'd eaten. I was usually pretty stringent about portion control but it was just so freaking good! The bruschetta was amazing, the pasta was to die for, and the dessert was literally like an orgasm in my mouth. Like a foodgasm. So good. When we got back, I decided I should probably shower. I was still pretty grimy from my flights and with the food slowing me down, it was either that or a nap. I was afraid if I took a nap right then, I wouldn't wake up until sometime the following day. Which was unacceptable. We had plans.

Over dinner, we had decided to go to a nightclub. It was only Thursday and the convention didn't start until Saturday. So we could go have a few drinks, do some dancing and just hang tonight. Then tomorrow, we'd sleep in and go do some shopping and whatnot. Amelia had informed me that there really wasn't any sightseeing to do in this city apart from a couple of museums and a garden of some kind, so I was ok with a lazy shopping Friday. Then Friday night, we could come back to the hotel and get to bed so we'd be fresh and ready to go for Day One of the convention.

So I grabbed the leak-proof toiletries bag out of my suitcase and headed into the bathroom. Which was ridiculous, let me just say that. It was like five times the size of any bathroom I had ever seen. The counter alone was about the size of a twin bed. Ok, that's an exaggeration. But it was pretty effin' big. The shower was just insane. Seriously, a football team could have showered in there together. The walls in it were all glass with these bamboo shades that lowered with the flick of a switch, which was pretty cool. Then there were four different panels on the ceiling that water came out of. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to get just one to spray.

When I finally had the temperature right, I pulled my shirt off and unbutton my jeans. The relief brought a tear to my eye. I made a mental note to wear elastic waistbands or dresses from then on when I dined out with Amelia. I peeled the jeans off, did away with my underthings, and stepped into the shower. It felt so freaking good that I just stood there for a good five minutes before I even started washing my hair. After I rinsed, conditioned, soaped up and washed off, I still wasn't ready to get out. So I just stood there a little while longer, letting the warm water run over me for a bit.

When I could no longer, in good conscience, justify wasting the water, I stepped out and toweled off. Realizing I forgot to bring any clothes in with me, I wrapped a towel around myself and wandered out to my suitcase. Amelia had fallen asleep on her bed, fully clothed. I had to smile, knowing how badly I'd wanted to do the same thing. I felt bad waking her up, so I decided to get dressed and go for a run. I realize it would have made more sense to run before I showered, but I hadn't planned on running. Technically, I doubt if I would have been physically able to run before relaxing in the shower and giving some of those carbs a chance to digest.

Either way, I was going for a run. I would just grab another quick shower when I got back. I pulled out the clothes I needed and headed to the bathroom to put them on. Once I was dressed, I strapped my iPod armband on and wrote a quick note for Amelia. I didn't want her to wake up and not know where I was, so I just wrote that I was running and I'd be back soon. I warmed up as silently as possible and stretched a little bit. Then I plugged my earbuds in, started my running playlist, and headed to the elevator. I cut through the main lobby pretty quickly, feeling super douche-ish wearing my running gear with all the fanciness around.

Within a couple of minutes I was in the parking lot. I turned on the running app on my phone, not wanting to get lost, and noticed it was only five thirty. I had plenty of time to take a nice long run and get back before we had to start getting ready. I did one last quick stretch and hit the road. By the time I rounded the corner, I was totally zoned out. There was only me, my music, and my feet pounding the pavement.

…

_EPOV_

Since I had plenty of time to sleep, my body decided to be a total dickhead and wake up after only two hours. When I saw that it was only six o'clock, I groaned and threw an arm over my face. I laid there for a few minutes, hoping I would accidentally fall back asleep but no dice. I sat up and threw the blankets off in exasperation. "Son of bitchin stupid brain, fuck," I grumbled out loud as my feet hit the carpet. I'm eloquent when I wake up, what can I say?

I stumbled over to my suitcase, throwing it open and rifling through it. After a few moments, I had my shower stuff in hand and made my way to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I emerged feeling like a new man. That shower was truly magnificent. I had skipped shaving, even though I could already predict the dramatics Pam would put me through for having scruff. Which would pale in comparison to the fit she was going to pitch when she saw my hair. She liked it either buzz cut short or shoulder length, apparently not caring that there had to be a middle point between the two. It wasn't very long just now but it also wasn't very short. She was going to bitch, for sure. Probably pull the old 'woe is me, my brother is a complete moron in the ways of fashion' bit. I chuckled to myself, thinking she honestly should have been the actor in the family.

I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, deciding what to do. Thanks to my idiot internal clock, which apparently was set to PissEricOff standard time, I had hours before I needed to think about getting ready for the bar. I threw a big morning stretch and decided to go for a run. That would kill about an hour and hopefully get me fully awake. I grabbed some shorts and a shirt out of my bad and threw them on, then went to the window to make sure I had enough daylight. I threw the curtains back and saw that there was plenty of sun left and thankfully no rain. Just as I was turning away from the window, I noticed a girl jog into the parking lot.

Or rather, I saw very attractive body parts jog into the parking lot. Tan, toned legs pumping back and forth. Stomach muscles visible through a soaked tank top, contracting with each step. Chest subtly bouncing, damn sports bras straight to hell for the control they offered. She had earbuds in, the cord trailing to the band on her upper arm. I couldn't see her face too clearly, but what I could see looked pretty fucking good to me. Full pink lips, high cheekbones, wide eyes. Blonde hair, cropped close to her head. As I watched her, she stopped near the edge of the lot and stretched her shoulders behind her back. Her chest popped out and I flinched, looking over my shoulder on instinct to make sure nobody was watching me watching her. Obviously I was clear, since I was alone in the room.

When I looked back into the parking lot, my breath caught in my throat and I got a Level Three hard-on. She was stretching her hamstrings and by the grace of God, she had turned her ass directly towards my window before she bent over into the stretch. And what a wondrous ass it was. I turned my head this way and that to make sure I didn't miss an angle. I realized I was totally creeping on this girl but I honestly couldn't help it. Despite the character I portray on television, I really am only human.

She stood up entirely too soon, in my opinion. If I could have opened the window, I probably would have yelled down to her that the hamstring is an important muscle and you should never skimp on the stretching of it. Alas, the fucking window didn't open, so I could only hope she had another provocative stretch up her sleeve before she continued on her merry way. She turned and leaned on the bench she was standing near to stretch her quads, a decidedly un-provocative stretch in my opinion. Then she grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it up to wipe the sweat off of her face. I was a pretty big fan of her abs, if I'm being honest. Sadly, that signaled the end of the show. She started walking toward the building and disappeared from view.

I realized that I was touching myself and got totally creeped out by the fact that I was basically a peeping tom. Which cooled down my 'situation' considerably. I coughed and looked around again, verified that I indeed was alone in the room, and shook my head to clear it. I really needed to get laid. I'd just been so busy with wrapping up the season and finalizing the contract for the film I'd just signed on to that I hadn't had a chance to get out and about. I decided I'd try like hell to 'meet a nice girl' this weekend. Shit was getting out of control when I started fondling myself while watching a random jogger.

I pulled my shoes on, grabbed my iPod and headed out the door. I was flipping through my playlists as I walked toward the elevators, so I was startled when I heard shuffling sounds. I looked up and saw the girl from the parking lot dancing down the hallway ahead of me. Presumably she was still listening to her iPod and whatever song was on must have been amazing. She started off subtly, but as I followed her around the curve in the hall, (yes, I am aware that I was _thisclose_ to being put on a sexual offender list of some kind) she got more into it. She was dancing like a professional, too. It wasn't like the booty popping you see in rap videos, it was more like what the actual rappers do. It involved a lot of jerky bouncing, fluid sliding moves, and arm motions. It was pretty hot.

Abruptly, she stopped in front of a door and slid a key out of her arm band. I spun around and headed back toward the elevators. I couldn't believe I was stalking an unsuspecting woman down hotel corridors. Even if she was cute. With a phenomenal ass. Among other things. I shook my head again as I made it back to the elevators. This had gone too far. Eric Northman does not creep on random women from his hotel window and then follow said random woman down her hallway like some demented janitor. This weekend. So help me God, I was getting laid this weekend.

**So? What did you think? Hopefully it wasn't too hard to follow. The song for this one is **_**Jeepers Creepers **_**by The Puppinni Sisters thanks to Eric's creeper tendencies lol. More coming soon, I can't wait to get these guys in a bar! Thanks for reading =)**


	5. If You Don't Know Me By Now

**I seriously can't stop writing this one, it's taking over my life lol. Luckily it's pretty much done in my brain, I just have to get it written down. I'm glad you guys liked Creeper Eric, I thought he was kinda cute too. Thanks so much for reading, guys! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

When I got back after my run, Amelia was still sleeping. I decided to let her be and jumped in the shower again. I continued dancing around in the shower as I washed my hair and body. In the elevator on the way up, _Look At Me Now_ had come on my playlist and I couldn't help but bust a move as I walked back to the room. As I'd gotten out of the elevator, I looked all around to make sure I was alone. I would have literally died of mortification if anybody had seen my sweat nasty ass dancing Lafayette style down the hallway.

I spent a touch longer than was strictly necessary under the warm spray of the water but still managed to get out in about twenty minutes. After I got dried off, I put on my favorite sleeper set (dark blue shorts and tank top with a _Starry Night_ print). I decided since I had some time to kill, I'd put a mask on. While that dried, I decided to paint my toenails. I had brought a couple colors with me, wanting to make sure I was prepared for whatever situation might come up. A girls toes can say a lot about her and I was not about to meet any actor, let alone some of my favorites, with a snaggle toe situation.

I wasn't sure what I'd be wearing that night , but you can never go wrong with a nice red. So I whipped out the OPI _Vodka and Caviar_ I'd brought with me and got to painting. Once I finished with that, I washed the mask off my face and padded out into the main section of the room. I started rifling through my suitcase, looking for potential outfits to wear out to the club later. Which would have been easier with Amelia's advice, but I didn't want to wake her up just yet. I pulled out a slinky black dress and held it up, frowning. I didn't know if it would be too much or not, but I did like it. I draped it over the desk as a possible candidate. I had turned my attention back to other options when my phone started ringing from my nightstand. The sudden blare of _Miss New Booty_ in the previously silent room scared the daylights out of me and I cursed Lafayette under my breath as I rushed over to snatch it before it woke Amelia.

I answered it as I rushed out the door. She had somehow managed to stay asleep through the ringtone so I didn't want to eff around and wake her up by talking in the room. The door clicked closed behind me just as I realized I didn't have a key with me. Or shoes.

"Shit! Hello?" I shout-whispered into the phone. Of course Lafayette was unaffected by my rude greeting.

"Bitch what hospital is you in? I'm fittin to fly on over to London Town soon as I gets the location," his baritone voice was a comfort I hadn't realized I'd needed. Course that's the way it was with him; always had been. I let a deep breathe out through my nose.

"I'm not in the hospital," I said, trying not to chuckle. I knew what was coming.

"Oh really? Well then please enlighten a bitch as to why you have not called," he drawled. I grinned as I started pacing down the hallway. Ever since I was a pre-teen, I paced while on the phone. My life was made so much simpler when we'd gotten a cordless.

"I'm sorry, Lala, everything happened kinda fast once I landed and I didn't think," I explained.

"Mmm-hmm. Yo work shit you mean?" I could practically see him holding his fingernails out for inspection as he spoke and wondered briefly what color they were today. Then I had an internal guilt battle as I debated whether to tell him the truth. "Sook?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Um, I'm not here for work, per se," I let the sentence trail out and waited to see what his response would be.

"You don't say." He wasn't giving me a whole lot to work with.

"Well, yeah. See, there's this convention here-"

"The Drained Campaign?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Yeah! Wait, what? How did you know about it?" I was definitely surprised.

"Hooka, I know everything." I was getting ready to object when he broke into song. "If you don't know me by now, you will neva eva eva know me, oooo-"

I cut him off with a cackle. "Ok, ok. Seriously, though."

He heaved a sigh. "If you needs to know the ins and outs, there was a couple hints. First off, you can't lie for shit. Second off, what the hell would you be doin in England for yo job? Continental travel makes sense. India, I get it. England? No suh, not buyin that," he said, matter-of-factly.

"But how did you find out about the convention?"

"Bitch you ain't the only one wit Google," he sassed immediately. I giggled, glancing into the mirror across from the elevators and noting with approval that my complexion was glowing thanks to the mask I'd used. I ran a hand through my hair and tried not to pay any mind to the fact that I was traipsing through the hallways in night clothes with no shoes. Thank God it was a ritzy place and presumably had clean carpets.

"Fair enough. You're not mad?" I asked, resuming my pacing. He sighed.

"No, I ain't mad atcha. I know you wouldn't be doin nothin stupid, I'm sure you followed up on all yo shit before you left," he explained.

"Yep I did," I told him. "I was kinda worried because I met this girl here from that fan fiction site I was on, but she seems pretty normal so far. Well, other than the fact that she's filthy rich and rented a Lexus P90X or whatever the hell it is. It's like riding in a fighter pilot," I chuckled.

"That why you left yo itinerary on the fridge?" he asked. I didn't need to be with him to know his hand was on his hip and his eyes were slightly bugged out of his head.

"That is correct," I smiled as I answered him. Having made it clear to the other end of the hallway, I turned around to head back toward our room. The walls were really pretty; vertical stripes alternating between pale yellow and a faded salmon color. Every so often there were gilded gold candle holders that looked pretty authentic. I stopped to inspect one, running my finger lightly along the edges. "So how is everything at home?"

"Same old shit. Tara still crazy, Hoyt still stupid. Oh but you ain't never gone believe this. Jessica sleepin wit Jason," his voice was bubbling with excitement.

"What!" I screeched, hand dropping from the wall fixture. He hummed affirmation. "Surely she got more sense than that! Although," I paused, thinking about it. "They might not actually be too bad together. Provided Jase doesn't step out on her," I thought out loud.

"Same thing I said, after I got over the initial shock," he agreed.

"Hm. How's Gran doin?" I asked, pacing back and forth in front of the same wall fixture. He hmph'ed.

"I got over there this morning, she outside cuttin the grass," he said in a slightly offended tone.

"Lafayette! I asked you to keep an eye on her, not drive her to an early grave!" I admonished.

"Number one, that bitch gone outlive us all. Number two, it ain't like I told her she had to cut the grass, she took _that_ upon herself," he defended. I laughed under my breath.

"You're probably right, she is a sturdy little thing. I take it you took over after you got there?"

"Sho did, what do I look like?" he asked, stung. I laughed again.

"Just checking! So guess who I'm gonna seeeee," I taunted in a singsongy voice. He wasn't on board with fan fiction but nobody could deny the hotness of the shows actors. "Eric Northman! All six foot five inches of his sexy ass!" I laughed into the phone, over his groans of jealousy. I sighed theatrically as I leaned against the wall between the candle holder I'd been inspecting and the door next to it. I fanned myself dramatically, even though he couldn't see me, and sunk into an even deeper than usual accent. "Land sakes alive, I just might orgasm right on the spot. Verily, I may not be able to contain myself!"

He was cracking up. "So what you sayin is I needs to keep an eye on the international newspapers in case I miss the headline: American woman arrested in England after attempted rape and assault on Eric Northman?" I laughed so hard, tears came to my eye.

"Might not be a bad idea. That way you can wire bail money," I said, resuming my walk down the hall. "But seriously though, I really might die when I see him. Just shit myself and die. So if I do, I want you to know that you've always been my best friend," I told him a mock-somber voice. He snorted. I heard a door click open behind me and scurried a little faster, past the elevators. I had come to terms with walking barefoot through the hallway with no shoes on, but that didn't mean I wanted another person to witness it.

"I'll be sure to do that," he answered sarcastically.

"Ok babe, well I gotta go. I'm gonna try to get ready, we're going to out to a club tonight. Lava something or other, I can't remember the whole name. Sounds fun, though. Amelia told me all about it," I told him, stopping in front of my door.

"She from there?" he asked.

"Yep. Well, she's from London but she seems familiar with pretty much everywhere," I answered.

"Ok hookah, well call me if you need anything or even if you don't. I love your face," he told me.

"I love yours too," I answered, waiting for his customary response.

"And wouldn't nobody blame you fo that!" I could hear his smile through the phone. I smiled too, again comforted by the familiarity.

"Bye," I said softly into the phone.

"Bye baby," he replied. I ended the call and let out a big sigh. I really didn't want to wake Amelia up yet, but I wasn't about to go down to the lobby for a spare key in my current outfit (or lack thereof). I reluctantly knocked on our door and waited. I didn't hear anything at first, so I knocked again a few moments later.

"Amelia?" I called, knocking a little louder. This time I heard footsteps and sighed with relief. At least she wasn't a heavy sleeper. As she shuffled toward the door, I heard the elevator ding and leaned back to see it past the curve of the hall. All I caught was a hint of gym shorts and a big man-leg in a flip flop stepping onto the elevator.

**Hope you guys liked it! More coming soon! The song for this one was **_**If You Don't Know Me By Now**_** by **_**Simply Red **_**lol I'm having a blast with this song title thing, btw. (Side note, the title of this story is also a song title which I knew when I wrote it but hadn't planned on doing this chapter thing at the time. Spooky!) Thanks for reading!**


	6. Don't Stop Believin'

**Sorry guys, had a horrible week this week! I wanted to get updates for both stories written and posted much earlier than this but haven't had a chance. So here I sit on a flight from Vegas to Pittsburgh, contorted against the window of a plane so the lady beside me can't see what I'm typing. Although to be honest, the way I'm sitting over here is probably freaking her out. But at least I don't have to keep trying to nonchalantly see if she's trying to nonchalantly see what I'm typing, which is what I would do if the sitch was flipped. Enough blathering from me, onto the story! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

Luckily I was able to get through my run without being stopped, a miracle in and of itself. The more popular the show got, the less of a chance I had of going unnoticed. Anywhere. Originally it was just in Louisiana, during filming. Then when the show premiered, it was in California. Then it spread to the rest of the states. Then it spread to England. Now even Home Sweet Sweden wasn't safe. So when I got the rare private experience, I was definitely grateful for it.

After my run, which helped burned off some of the excess 'energy' I'd had, I got back into the hotel (even up to my room) without incident. Other than the girl at the front desk who appeared to be in serious danger of fainting when she saw me. Thank fuck she wasn't a screamer and I was able to smile awkwardly and hurry past.

In my room, I peeled off my shirt and tossed it on the counter in the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I flexed a little bit and made a couple of faces at myself before realizing what I was doing. "I am such a douche," I muttered under my breath as I turned away from the mirror to turn the shower on. Even though my run had definitely been invigorating, I couldn't hold back a huge yawn as I waited for the temperature of the water to adjust. I really needed to take some time off and sleep. Just sleep. 'Til at least noon every day.

I shucked my shoes and shorts and stepped into the shower, humming as the spray hit my chest. After a minute or two of just standing there, I grabbed the shampoo from the ledge and lathered up. As I was scrubbing my scalp, I thought back to the girl dancing down the hallway. With that ass. Such a nice ass. Sitting right on top of those legs of hers. I remembered how she moved as she danced along and wondered what song she was hearing. Which luckily got my mind into song mode as opposed to what would have undoubtedly been an intense fantasy involving Nameless Girl From Hallway, me, and this spacious shower. I got the feeling we could have a pretty fuckawesome shower scene, if left to our own devices.

"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world," I sang in a low voice as I turned and started rinsing. I was _not_ that guy. You know, the one who fantasizes in the shower. "Smell of wine and cheap perfume," I sang a little louder. I realized that was probably wrong and also that I didn't know any other lyrics except the chorus. Didn't let that stop me, though. "I don't think that was right but I'll go on and on and on and ooooooon. Don't stop! Believin!" I was belting it out now and getting into a pretty good mood.

A few minutes later, I was wrapping a towel around my waist in front of the mirror. I couldn't help one last flex before I walked out of the bathroom to grab some clothes. I was still humming the tune of that Journey song, having given up on remembering any more of the words, when I rounded the corner of the bathroom and heard someone screech "What!" right outside my door. I froze, not wanting whoever it was to hear me in the room. I wasn't sure who was out there but it wouldn't be the first time I'd been stalked. People are crazy.

"Surely she got more sense than that! Although, they might not actually be too bad together. Provided Jase doesn't step out on her, " the voice was female, southern, and had to be standing right outside of my door. I crept over to the peephole to see if I could get a glimpse of who it was. I didn't think it was a stalker at this point, unless it was a really loud, really dumb one. Then again, those types aren't usually the cream of the intellectual crop.

I pressed my face against the door, spreading my palms flat on the surface for balance. Nothing. I shifted around, trying to get a side view to the left. Nothing there either. I slid my face around the other way, not thrilled by the fact that I was getting God knows what germs all over my kisser, and peered to the right. I caught a glimpse of an elbow, so I stayed in position. At this point, curiosity was running the show.

"Hm. How's Gran doin?" The elbow asked. Well, technically the girl attached to the elbow asked it, but since all I could see was an elbow, that's the way it seemed. Her voice was quieter than it had originally been, more conversational now. Which didn't last long. "Lafayette! I asked you to keep an eye on her, not drive her to an early grave!"

My head jerked back in reflex at the volume of her voice, but I quickly replaced it to see if I could get a better view. Which spoke volumes of my boredom. Or mental state. Or both. Just as I got my face back up to the peephole, Nameless Girl From Hallway stepped backwards into full view with a cell phone pressed against her ear. Apparently, she'd been facing the wall right next to my door. Why, I have no clue, but I was glad she was. It meant I got to see her face up close, and only slightly distorted through the tiny circle of glass.

It was perfect, all smooth skin and graceful bones. Her lips were full and dark pink, her nose was short and straight and she had high cheekbones. Her whole face was perfectly proportioned. And her skin was just, well, pretty. She looked like she was glowing, from what I could see. I was happy to confirm that my earlier observation was right. Oh fuck. This made three official times that I'd creeped on the same girl in the same day. But it's only creepin' if the guy is ugly, right? That's what I tried to tell myself but I wasn't quite convinced. Either way, I couldn't stop.

"You're probably right, she is a sturdy little thing. I take it you took over after you got there?" she asked the phone, turning her head slightly towards me. Her eyes flickered down the hall and I noticed how big they were. And how blue. The lashes framing them were thick and dark and just as she looked back to whatever the fuck was drawing her focus to the wall, I had a vision of those eyes looking directly into mine. From under me. Or above me. Or in front of me, as she turned to look over her shoulder as I gr- Ok, that was officially Creeper Territory.

"Just checking! So guess who I'm gonna seeeee," she taunted whoever she was talking to. "Eric Northman! All six foot five inches of his sexy ass!" My whole body froze for an instant, only to have a hot wash of anticipation flare through my frame. She was gonna see me. She was going to the convention. She thought I was sexy. I immediately went into 13 year old girl mode in my mind before mentally bitch smacking myself back to manhood. Clearly I had developed some crazy mental connection to this girl. I suddenly understood a stalkers skewed vision of reality a little better.

Balls back or not, I almost verbally protested when she disappeared from my view. Stupid peephole! They should be bigger. Maybe I could invent one, with, like, a swiveling scope or something. And instead of calling it a peephole, I could call it a creephole. Since that's basically what it would be.

The sound of a sigh rushing out of her brought 'Junior' to half mast and I strained to hear what she was going to say next. "Land sakes alive, I just might orgasm right on the spot. Verily, I may not be able to contain myself!"

As every last millimeter of blood in my body raced to my dick, I almost passed out. I don't know if it was the words she said, the thickening of her already sexy accent, or the slight deepening of her voice when she said what was clearly meant as a jest but taken as an invitation (by me). Whatever it was, it had me mentally screaming 'Back, beast!' to my crotch while trying to squeeze even closer to the peephole.

A moment later, she laughed and my hand shot down to restrain Junior, who was tired of waiting and had taken it upon himself to try to jackhammer through the door to get to her. Which is when I realized I was basically naked, with nothing but a towel around my waist. Which just upped the ante of weirdness to incalculable amounts. I pushed away from the door, reluctant though I may have been, because I was _not_ that guy. As I headed over to my suitcase, I repeated the mantra in my mind. I was _not_ that guy. I grabbed a pair of shorts and slid them on. I was _not_ that guy. I rummaged a little and pulled a shirt out of the suitcase, pulling it on over my head.

Although, I really should go get some ice for the room, I realized. Never know when you're gonna need ice, after all. I frantically grabbed a pair of flip flops from the duffel on the floor and flew out the door, any thought even remotely resembling 'I am not that guy' completely forgotten.

I convinced myself in the span of about two seconds that if I 'just so happened' to appear before her very eyes, we could move this party right back into my hotel room and we'd both be happy. Bada bing, bada boom. But when I saw her leisurely walking down the hall in front of me in a little sleep set with no shoes on, I had a change of heart. Not because I didn't think she looked hot as shit in it, because I totally did. But for some reason I didn't want to try to schmooze her into my bed within three minutes of officially meeting her. The little shorts hugged her ass in all the right places, but they had a _Starry Night_ design on them that made her seem, I don't know.. Innocent? Something that was the opposite of wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Especially when my door clicked behind me and she practically started running down the hallway. Clearly, she didn't want anyone to see her in PJs, which completely solidified my decision. If I met her right then, she might keel over of embarrassment.

I was going to just turn around and go back to my room when I realized that I hadn't grabbed a key in my mad rush to get out the door. Awesome. I went slowly toward the elevator, thinking she'd had plenty of time to get out of sight. Unfortunately, I didn't think to confirm that thought until after I pushed the button. When I glanced in the direction she'd gone, I saw her facing a door with her hand raised tentatively. Her head was slightly bowed and she looked like she was waiting. Or nervous. Was there a guy in there? Oh, that would piss me off. Although I had no right to be pissed off since I _hadn't even met her yet_.

Laid. I needed to get laid. Stat.

"Amelia?" she called out, rapping her knuckles against the door. I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding when I realized it was a girl. She was rooming with a girl. Just then, the elevator arrived, dinging like it was the goddam Liberty Bell and I had a split second of panic as the doors opened. I rushed through them, hoping she didn't see me. I wanted to try to woo her at the convention. Maybe ask her out for dinner. If we happened to get nasty between the sheets afterwards, who was I to say object? As the elevator slowly descended to the lobby, where I planned to get a duplicate room key, I had a panic inducing stray thought. What if she was a lesbian? No, she couldn't be. She was just swooning over the prospect of meeting me a few minutes ago. Said she might orgasm on the spot, I believe it was. Letting my imagination run wild with that wonderful statement of hers, I was completely unprepared when the doors opened and I was deafened by a chorus of bloodcurdling screams.

Not since I was twelve years old had I wanted to find myself in the center of a group of teenaged girls with no boxers on and half a hard-on. Unfortunately, that is the exact scenario I had unwittingly wound up in. I was simultaneously being groped, having pens and papers shoved in my face for autographs (honestly, where the fuck do people get pens and paper out of the blue? Am I the only person on earth that doesn't carry that shit on me at all times?), getting squealed at and generally fawned over. At some point during this clusterfuck, I remembered to put my Happy Tabloid face on just in time for the cell phones to start clicking pictures. Turns out the group was staying at the hotel and had come specifically for the convention. I got stuck there for almost an hour before some star-struck mothers arrived, reluctantly shooing the herd towards the elevator while admonishing them for bothering me. Of course, I responded that it was no bother at all, yatta yatta yatta. Which was all the excuse the mothers needed to let the whole mess go on for another twenty minutes.

When I finally got free, I headed to the front desk. Keeping my head down as I walked, hoping not to be recognized a second time, I noticed which t-shirt I had on. Of course. Of fucking course I grabbed _that_ t-shirt out of all the son of a bitching t-shirts in my suitcase. Pam had bought it for me in her usual smart-ass style before we'd flown out of Tampa, which is where I'd just come from. Otherwise, it never would have been in my suitcase because it wasn't something I was keen on wearing. Just in case, oh I don't know, I would ever happen to be mobbed by a group of teenaged girls. Who, btw, snap pictures of themselves for a fucking living to post on Facebook and therefore are quicker than the goddam paparazzi with that shit. For example. It still had the tag attached because I had no intention on wearing it outside of my own home.

Apparently, my karmic punishment for being a creeper pervert was having umpteen pictures undoubtedly plastered all over the internet, and probably gossip magazines the world over, of me posing with impressionable teen girls, smiling like a champ, wearing this t-shirt.

With one arrow pointing up labeled The Man.

And one arrow pointing down labeled The Legend.

Awesome.

**Hehe! I stole a line from a review from the totally awesome jtedrick (It's only creepin' if the guy's ugly). Which totally cracked me up when I read it =) The song for this one was **_**Don't Stop Believin'**_** by Journey. Hehe! I don't want to drag anything out but I thought Eric's POV on this part was pretty funny. I hope you liked it! As always, thanks SO much for reading! (Now I'm off to write some VGTTG because Godric is getting pissed!)  
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	7. Paper Planes

**Hey guys! Hope you're having a great weekend so far =) Thanks for your reviews on this story, I'm so glad you like it. I have it all planned out now, down to the end, so it's just a matter of getting everything on paper. I'm not sure how many chapters it's gonna take, but there are at least (at **_**least) **_**five left in this little ditty. Probably more than that but again, I suck at guesses. Down below we hear from everybody for at least a little bit. Hope you like it! CH/AB own all this stuff.  
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_EPOV_

I made it out front of the hotel just in time to see the town car Pam had sent pull up, which was a relief. There was no way I wanted to get caught in another fan storm right then and was thankful for Albert's punctuality. Just as I grabbed the door handle to let myself in the backseat, though, the locks engaged and I couldn't get in. I furrowed my brow and leaned down to peer into the car.

"Albert, it's me!" I yelled to the window. "Open the damn door!"

The window cracked about an inch. "I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Ravenscroft gave me explicit instructions not to let you in the car if you were wearing a t shirt of any kind," the driver called out apologetically.

"First of all, her name is Northman," I responded, completely annoyed with the fake moniker Pam had decided to masquerade under. "And secondly, I'm the one writing your damn checks."

"Yes sir, that is correct. However, I dare not disobey your sister. Surely you understand," his eyes pleaded with me to go change. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling heavily through my nose.

"If I am accosted by a single fan on my way back up to my room, I'll kick your ass myself," I warned him. He nodded energetically as I spun around and jogged back into the hotel. I should have known better than to try to get away with a t shirt anyway. God forbid if I ruin her style. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator doors and smirked knowing how pissed she was going to be when she saw my scruffy beard and shaggy hair. I'd even worked a little gel in to get it going every which way, knowing she especially hated that. When I made it back to my room without being stopped, I pulled my gray t shirt off and rummaged through my suitcase. The first thing I found was a light blue button up with a collar, so that's what I put on. It was wrinkled and didn't really go with my jeans but I didn't really give a damn. I thought for a second and decided to swap the loafers I was wearing for my beat up white Converse, which I knew would be the cherry on top of the irritation sundae I was about to serve Pam.

Pleased with my new outfit choice, I made my way back down to the lobby. Luckily for good old Albert, I didn't run into anyone this time either. When the front doors of the hotel whooshed open as I approached, I caught a bubbly laugh drifting in from outside and glanced up automatically. Parked just behind the town car was a cab and Nameless Girl From Hallway aka The Jogger was lowering herself into it. I only caught a quick glance as she was navigating her way into the vehicle and it showed a tight green dress, a hint of cleavage and a lot of tan leg. I almost tripped over the carpet trying to catch another peek but luckily caught myself before I went down.

From the angle the cab was parked at, I couldn't see her but I got a clear shot of another girl in the backseat with her. This one was much paler with dark hair in a ponytail and a wide grin on her face. She was speaking animatedly to the blonde, waving her arms about in an excited kind of way, and I dearly wished I knew where they were going. I shook my head, reminding myself that I would see her at the convention, and headed toward the town car. Their cab pulled out just as I was opening my door. I watched it go past, seeing that the girls were still chatting in the backseat and not even looking at their surroundings as they left. I shook off the fleeting disappointment I felt at the fact that I'd been so close to her twice now and she hadn't even seen me. A sarcastic voice in the back of my head reminded me to pick up some tampons, considering what a girl I'd turned into over the last twelve hours.

I snorted as I slid into the back seat. "Is this better, Albert?" I asked sarcastically, pulling the door shut behind me. He eyed me critically in the rearview mirror before answering.

"Actually, I think the t shirt looked a bit better. If I'm being honest."

I smiled broadly at him. "Thanks. So did I."

He shook his head while smiling ruefully and pulled out of the parking lot. I drummed my fingers against my knee as I peered out of the window, realizing I was looking forward to having a drink.

_SPOV_

"Oh hot damn," I muttered to Amelia in a serious tone. She glanced over at me looking a little worried.

"What is it?" she asked, popping the straw of her John Collins out of her mouth. I looked around a couple of times, real suspicious like, before I leaned in closer to her.

"This is my jam," I whispered in her ear. She threw her head back and laughed like there was no tomorrow. I grinned at her, taking a strong pull on my gin and tonic as I soaked in the dulcet tones of MIA. I wasn't kidding, this really was my jam. Of course, if you asked Tara, every jam was my jam. Which is basically true, I do like all kinds of music. I bobbed my head from side to side with the beat, already feeling the buzz of alcohol, and furrowed my brow as I started singing from my bar stool. "No one the corner has swagger like us, hit me on my burner pre-paid wireless!" After a few more snorts, Amelia joined in with me. I sincerely doubted there was anyone in the world under the age of 30 that didn't know at least a line of this song.

"Do you dance?" she asked, eyebrows raised, when the song ended.

"Do I dance?" I repeated. She nodded, confirming her question. "Honey, my best friend is a flamboyantly gay black man who can't decide whether he's a undiscovered member of the Pussycat Dolls or Usher Raymond's long lost twin," I answered. "I can dance in my sleep." She grinned from ear to ear as I sipped a little more of my drink. I really was getting a nice buzz going, I realized.

"That is fantastic because one more of these and I'll be ready to hit the dance floor," she told me, waving her glass before throwing the contents back in one smooth movement. Not even a minute later, the bartender slid two full glasses in front of us. I exhaled loudly before draining mine and lifting the fresh glass from the counter.

"You are really flirting with disaster here, FYI," I told her in a mock serious tone. She lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before answering.

"We're just getting started," she answered with a smirk.

_PPOV_

"What in the fuck is on your head?" I demanded of Eric as he walked into the private room that Ginger had rented for us at Lava & Ignite. He plastered on a self satisfied smile before he answered, which grated on my nerves.

"Hair, Pam. What's on yours?" he lowered himself into one of the lounge chairs adjacent to mine.

"Jesus Christ, I'm afraid to take you into the sunlight," I muttered, taking a drink of my Long Island. He looked confused. "With hair like that you're liable to start sparkling."

He snorted, leaning back on the chair, undoubtedly attempting to put his hideous outfit on display. I should have known he'd wear something like that if he couldn't wear a t shirt. If he thought he was going to goad me into remarking on it, he was sorely mistaken. Instead, I took another sip and glanced around the room. It really was a cool set up, almost like being inside a velvet fish bowl or something. There were two lounge chairs with a small table between them and a long couch against the opposite wall. The window looking out into the club was round but pretty big and the lighting was low key. We could still hear the music but it wasn't as deafening as it was out there. With the push of a button, a waitress would magically appear to take our drink orders. All in all, a pretty sweet deal. My eyes landed back on my humongous oaf of a brother, who was maintaining his infuriating silence.

"For fuck's sake, did you have to wear the goddam Converse?" I finally burst out, unable to hold it in any longer. His already smirking mouth split into a huge, toothy grin and I had to smile back at his stupid little overbite. Fucker. He slid his eyes over to me. "And I'm afraid to even ask about the homeless man you clearly stole that shirt from."

"What's wrong, Pammy? Don't care for my ensem?" he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction and I snorted.

"You are so lucky there's nothing in here for me to throw at you," I informed him, taking another sip of my drink. He sighed.

"So violent for one so young," came his long suffering reply. I rolled my eyes and he sighed, sitting up. "So, anything exciting going on here?" he inquired, nodding toward the window.

"Plenty," I told him. "Blonde or brunette?"

"What, no redheads?" he asked, knowing exactly what I'd say.

"Gingers are evil," I responded immediately, much to his delight. I wasn't even _that_ opposed to redheads, but after seeing a particularly hilarious episode of South Park a couple of years ago, I'd made an offhand remark about Gingers being soulless, which he'd found hilarious. Since then, he assumed I was scared of them and I kept up with the ruse just to make him laugh. He didn't get on my nerves _all_ the time, after all.

"Actually, I think I'll pass tonight," he answered, after recovering from his laughing fit. I have no doubt that my eyebrows disappeared into my hairline at that. He squirmed a little under my gaze, which was never a good sign. "There's this girl, at my hotel," he started. I waited for the rest of his explanation and when it seemed that none was coming, I spoke up.

"Shocking!" I exclaimed. "Seriously, somebody needs to get a news crew over there asap! A girl at your hotel, who'd have thought?"

"What a smart ass," he chuckled. "This is gonna sound stupid, but I haven't talked to her yet. I saw her jogging earlier today and then dancing in the hallway when she thought she was alone. And then after that, I overheard her on her cell phone talking about coming to the convention," he explained, picking at the arm of the lounge he was on. Clearly avoiding eye contact with me.

"So, let me get this straight. You've been stalking an unsuspecting girl from your hotel but you were worried about this seeming creepy?" I asked, gesturing to the room we were in with my drink.

"I wasn't stalking! I just happened to notice her a couple times and I'm curious about her," he hedged, glancing up at me. Fuck, I knew that look. Eric was a hopeless romantic at heart which is why I needed to be the shrew I was. Somebody had to look out for his simple ass. Although he had toughened up a bit after learning a couple of painful lessons, he was still too quick to see the good in literally everyone around him.

"So you're curious about her, that doesn't mean you can't be 'curious' about one of the girls out here tonight," I reminded him, eyebrows raised. He rolled his eyes. Fucker had the nerve to steal my move. "That's a registered trademark, I'll have you know."

"I actually would not be surprised if you really did get it registered," he retorted. He pushed himself off of the lounge and wandered over to the window. I stood up and joined him, perusing the dance floor once more. "Pretty big crowd out there," he mumbled. I nodded, noticing a girl sauntering out on to the floor. She was wearing a curve hugging black number and a pair of gold Louboutin for Rodante. I was in love.

"Dibs on the brunette in black," I proclaimed. He laughed, shaking his head. After a moment, his face froze and I followed his gaze back out to the floor. She was now standing with a blonde bombshell in a dark green sheath dress and caged sandals. She had a slicked back pixie cut and was drop dead gorgeous, from what I could see.

"That's her!" he pointed, his finger making contact with the glass. I was confused for a moment until he elaborated. "That's the girl from my hotel!"

"Suddenly your curiosity makes a lot more sense," I muttered, watching as the girl started dancing with the brunette. I was immediately impressed that they were actually dancing and not just grinding on each other like the other sloppy drunks out actually looked pretty damn good and I was seriously considering calling dibs on both when Eric snapped his fingers in my face.

"Nuh-uh, nope! Don't even think about it, I'm calling dibs," he asserted.

"Fine, whatever, be that way," I joked, stepping away from him to ring for a waitress. My drink was nearly empty and I was sure he'd want something. I glanced over my shoulder and frowned when he was still staring out the window. "What do you want to drink? The waitress will be here any second, they're actually pretty quick."

He peeled himself away and walked back over to his chair. "I'll just have a Blue Moon to start," he told me. He was clearly still distracted by the girl but I didn't have a chance to respond as there was a quick knock and then the waitress entered the room. I threw up in my mouth a little when she recognized Eric and immediately started freaking out. I had no clue how he dealt with that shit all the time, I would lose my mind. Hell, I'd made up a fake last name just because I couldn't stand the attention being his sister got me. We looked too much alike as it was so when people heard Pam Northman, they immediately put two and two together. I was entirely too pretty for prison, which is where I would surely end up if I was asked for his phone number one more time, so I'd started going by Ravenscroft. He hated it but then again he didn't know my reason for doing it; I didn't want him to feel bad for inconveniencing me, which I knew he would. Much better to let him think I was being my normal smart ass self.

When she collected herself and asked Eric for our order, I spoke up. "Long Island Iced Tea and a Jack and Coke," I told her. He cut his eyes over to me as I clearly ignored his earlier request for beer. "Make that a double Jack and Coke and could you please bring two shots of Jaeger?"

"Of course!" she gushed, hurrying out of the room. He stared up at me, clearly expecting an explanation.

"What? You need to get drunk, this'll be faster than Blue Moon. Besides, you know I hate it when you fruit the beer."

_APOV_

Standing between the bathrooms and the dance floor, Sookie was in danger of falling asleep on her none too steady feet. She'd told me more than once that she needed to lie down and had even taken her contacts out, tossing them on the floor as she explained to me in a slur the myriad reasons it was important not to sleep in them. I had laughed hysterically while trying to steady her, realizing I was more than a little drunk myself.

"Right then, back to the hotel!" I declared, keeping a grip on her elbow as I guided us toward the door. I was pleased to note that while we were moving exceptionally slow, we (by the grace of God) were not staggering. Nothing worse than that, especially in a crowded place like this.

"Ames?" she grunted beside me. I bit back a laugh, never having heard that variation of my name before.

"Yes Sookie?" I inquired politely, elbowing the man beside me into submission as I plowed forward.

"You're pretty ok," she muttered, nodding as if agreeing with herself. Her eyes were basically closed at this point, long lashes laying against her cheeks. I scolded myself for not taking her more seriously when she'd started showing signs of slowing down about an hour ago. The poor girl had flown halfway across the world with no sleep and I'd been plying her with strong liquor for hours. Keeping her there so long was just plain cruel, but we'd been having such a good time that I didn't realize how tired she really was until now.

"You're not so bad yourself," I assured her as we finally made it outside of the club. The cool night air cut through the drunken fog that had been enveloping me and I took a deep breath of it in. Sookie seemed to rally a bit as well, her eyes opening fully as she scanned her surroundings. For about a second. Then they drooped again and I backed her up to the bench beside the entrance. As we both sat down, she leaned against me and promptly fell asleep. I had to smile, at least until she started drooling on my shoulder. Then I had to shift her so she was lying across my lap. I dug in my clutch while simultaneously trying to make sure her ass wasn't poking out for the world to see.

I found my cell phone and started flipping through my contacts for the cab company just as my light source was cut off. I looked up and was greeted with a pair of shapely legs, which disappeared into a dark pink strapless dress. As my eyes went up, they found modest cleavage, killer clavicles, and a gorgeous Nordic face. Big pouty lips, rigidly straight nose, perfect blue eyes. Long waves of blonde hair curled around her shoulders and she looked at me with a smirk and one eyebrow raised.

"Is that Armani PrivÃ?" was the only thing I could think to say. Her face split into a devilish grin and I just had to smile back at her.

"You bet your Louboutins it is," she answered in a silky voice. I noted her American accent with surprise, having expected a Scandinavian lilt. "Need some help with your friend?" she jerked her head toward Sookie's sleeping form. I thought for a minute, considering the best course of action. I'd lucked out that Sookie wasn't a crazed killer (or at least hadn't seemed to be so far) and I wasn't sure if I should take a second chance so soon. That being said, I knew I wasn't going to be able to manage her alone and I also knew my dad had a lo jack in my cell phone. If worse came to worst, I could shoot him a quick text and there'd be police surrounding us in moments, which was part of the reason I'd been able to keep my cool to a certain degree around Sookie in the first place. I looked back up at the girl and decided I just _had_ to get to know her a little better, so I decided to take her up on her offer.

"Actually, yes. I'm afraid I won't be able to load her into a cab properly," I answered. She shook her head.

"We have a town car, no need for a cab," she informed me. My eyes darted behind her as she said we and I noticed a hulking presence behind her. I must have looked pretty uneasy because she laughed, stepping to the side. "It's just my brother, not some serial killing accomplice," she said jokingly. I looked up and took in Eric Northman, all six and a half feet of glory that he was. He nodded awkwardly and smiled.

"Well hello," I answered, surprised by the turn this night was taking. "I'm Amelia," I dropped my phone into my clutch, keeping one hand on Sookie's oblivious shoulder and reaching the other out. He stepped forward, gripping my hand in a firm shake.

"Eric Northman, pleased to meet you," his voice was really sexy in person, I couldn't help but note. I also couldn't help the fact that I was surprisingly more attracted to his sister. I cut my eyes over to her, reaching to shake her hand as well.

"And you are?" I asked flirtatiously. She smiled and took my hand.

"Charmed," she answered, smoothly kissing the back of my hand. I let out a delighted laugh. "My name is Pamela, though," she told me in that same silky voice.

"You are a total cheeseball," Eric muttered under his breath, which earned him a steely glare from his sister.

"This is my friend Sookie, who will be kicking herself in the morning," I told them, looking down at her sleeping form curled up next to me on the bench. "She just got in from the States earlier today and I'm afraid I've run her ragged between no sleep and copious amounts of alcohol," I explained, feeling the need to defend her lest they think she was a sloppy drunk.

"Well, I'm staying at your hotel and it would be no bother at all if you rode there with us," Eric offered. I glanced up at him, wondering how the hell he knew where we were staying. He looked a little shy for a second before he went on. "I saw your friend jogging earlier today and then in the hallway after that," he explained.

"Huh. She didn't mention seeing you, which is weird because she's a huge fan," I told him.

"She didn't," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just caught a glimpse of her, no big deal."

I raised an eyebrow, not surprised that she'd made an impression on him. He was only a man, after all. Deciding it would be really bad press if they raped and/or killed either of us, I agreed to go with them. A moment later, a black car pulled up in front of us. I held onto Sookie's shoulder as I slid off the bench, sitting my clutch down next to her. I pulled her up into a sitting position and she woke up a bit, squinting at me.

"Ames?" she asked sleepily.

"Yes, that's me," I smiled at what apparently was going to be my nickname from here on out.

"I can't see anything," she muttered with a slight slur.

"Well that's because you're equal parts drunk and blind. You took your contacts out a while ago," I explained, crouching in front of her.

"That's good. Shouldn't sleep in em anyway," she answered, head dipping a bit. Her accent was much heavier than it had been earlier and I heard Eric and Pam chuckle behind me.

"Can you stand up, do you think?" I asked in an encouraging voice. She bobbed her head around in what I assumed was meant to be a nod and stood up in a fluid motion, which surprised me a little. I stood up with her, keeping a hold on her arm and she took a step forward. Though she didn't stumble, Eric was at her side instantly.

"Lafayette?" she asked, squinting up at him. I knew she couldn't see a thing and I felt really bad for her but at the same time it was pretty hilarious. She would literally die of shame if she knew it was Eric Northman supporting her drunken ass at that moment.

"Uh, no, it's Eric," he answered hesitantly. I shook my head at him, hoping to silently convey that it wouldn't be a good idea t reveal his true identity at the moment. He smiled a bit and nodded slightly.

"That's a really good name to have," she told him, leaning her head against his chest familiarly. His smile widened and his arm tightened around her waist. I let her go completely and in one smooth motion, he lifted her completely off of the ground and carried her bridal style to the car. Pam opened the door for him and a moment later he and Sookie both disappeared into the backseat. She inclined her head in an 'after you' gesture and I nodded, climbing in behind them. The back of the car was huge, with two bench seats facing each other and a partition between us and the driver. I settled across from the seat Eric and Sookie were occupying because she was stretched out, head in Eric's lap. He looked a bit uncomfortable but I think it was more _trying not to be a pervert with a hot drunk girls head on my junk'_ as opposed to '_get your drunken friend off of me_'. I chuckled at his obvious discomfort as Pam slid in beside me, pulling the door closed behind her.

"She's going to die of mortification in the morning," I told them, gesturing toward Sookie's prone form on across from me. Pam laughed but Eric blushed a little.

"Maybe you could not tell her?" he asked hesitantly. I cocked my head, not sure where he was going with this. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he apparently tried to form a sentence. "I just, I think.. What I mean is I wanted to ask her out and I don't want her to be embarrassed," he trailed off. "I heard her talking to someone on the phone about going to the convention, so I was wondering if we could let her think she's meeting me for the first time there? I know that sounds creepy but I-"

"What my brother means is he's a twelve year old girl and he's got a crush on your friend," Pam interrupted, earning herself a Level Three Death Stare from her brother. I laughed out loud, charmed by the fact that he was so sweet. I had spent enough time around celebrities to avoid being starstruck in their presence but I had to admit that I was surprised by this. I had never imagined someone as sought after as Eric Northman would rely on anything other than his obvious good looks to snag women.

"Very well," I agreed. "I won't say anything to her if she doesn't remember," I couldn't stop myself from smiling. He exhaled in relief.

"Thanks."

I looked down at Sookie, wondering if she knew the effect she had on the people around her. I guessed not but at the same time was glad of it. This trip was proving to be more excitement than I'd had in the last six months and we weren't even twenty four hours in.

**If anybody is interested in seeing Eric's hair in this chapter, there is a link on my profile. I happen to be a huge fan of Askars with RPatts hair and the picture is basically the cutest thing ever. The title is kinda lame because I forgot to work in a song theme so I went with the only song referenced (which is really a pretty catchy song). Otherwise, what did you think of the chapter? I know this story is getting pretty flufftastic but I gotta say, I'm liking that aspect of it and I hope you guys are too. Thanks for reading!**


	8. What Happened

**I'm baaaaaaaaaack! Hehe. Here's another chapter for today, I just couldn't help it. Thanks for the reviews on the last one, ladies, I really do love getting them (like, **_**a lot**_**). And yes, Pam is definitely a snarky bitch =) Hope you guys like this one! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

_SPOV_

I peeled my eyes open slowly and looked around. I was in my hotel room, which was a plus. My head was split open and my brains were throbbing all over the mattress, which was a minus. I groaned and covered my face with both hands. I was about to die of thirst but I was in no shape to peel my carcass off the bed just yet, so I very carefully turned my head to see if Amelia was in her bed. I noticed a blurry mound of blankets, which I assumed must be her. I hoisted myself up on to my elbows and rubbed the back of one hand into each eye individually. They were burning and I couldn't make out the details of anything, meaning I'd taken my contacts out at some point before I fell asleep. Way to go, Drunk Me. Unfortunately, I hadn't put on any pajamas or washed my face, apparently. There were black smudges all over my hand from rubbing my eyes and the only article of clothing I had on was the tiny pair of panties I'd worn under my dress the night before. A quick peek at the floor next to my bed revealed the green dress and black strapless bra I'd had on and I only hoped I hadn't stripped them off in front of Amelia.

Knowing I'd feel a million times better after a shower, I grabbed the dress to hold over my nakedness between the bed and the bathroom. When I brought it up to cover my chest, though, I noticed a strange smell wafting up and froze. Bringing it to my nose, I realized it was mens cologne. Weird. I took a big whiff and noted that it was some pretty sexy smelling cologne. Gripped in a momentary panic, I rolled myself over a few times to check the floor on the other side of the bed. Thankfully there was no strange man there, so I chalked the scent up to having been in the crowded bar and got up to stumble into the bathroom. My head pounded even harder once I stood up, but I soldiered on. After turning on the water, I took a glimpse in the mirror. Bad idea. My hair was completely plastered to my head and with the eyeliner smeared all over my face, I looked like a extra from a Marilyn Manson video. I made a face at myself and caught a whiff of my breath, which was definitely kicking.

"I'm so gross," I croaked, sounding like a man. Which meant I'd been smoking cigarettes at some point last night. I was not a regular smoker but I did love to puff away when I hit that certain magical level of drunkenness. I hated it not only because my chest felt heavy, but also because my voice would be all raspy and deep for days afterwards. Lafayette insisted it sounded sexy, but I felt like Rod Stewart on steroids. I coughed a little, hitting my chest with the side of my fist as I stepped into the shower. The hot water felt like heaven on my sweat nasty hair and I immediately started scrubbing down with shampoo. After I rinsed it, I lathered up again. I don't have a lot of hair these days, but smoke lingers and I wanted to be sure the smell was out.

Once I finally felt like I was clean, I shut the water off and grabbed a towel. I made a mental list of things I needed; headache medicine, coffee, food. In that order. In large quantities. After I got dressed, I made a trip down to the front desk to learn the closest whereabouts of all three. When I returned about ten minutes later with an industrial sized bottle of Tylenol, a huge to go cup of hotel coffee (which was horrible, btw), and a grease-tastic breakfast bagel, Amelia was still asleep. So, I settled into the recliner in the corner and feasted, trying to piece together the night. I remembered drinking. A lot. I remembered dancing with Amelia, spurning the advances of a couple of douche guys in tight t shirts with entirely too much gel in their hair, and drinking some more. I couldn't recall anything too embarrassing, so that was good. Then again, I couldn't recall leaving the damn bar either. I sighed around a mouthful of bagel, thinking I'd just have to wait until Amelia woke up to get the scoop.

_APOV_

I woke up feeling surprisingly well rested. My head was throbbing a wee bit but nothing too terrible. I reached my arms over my head and stretched out, emitting a low groan. With a sigh, I threw my blankets back to face the day. Eric had kindly deposited Sookie in our room for me the night before while I had chatted with Pam in the lobby. She was unfortunately not staying in the hotel but at a friends house a few streets over, so I lingered making small talk. Eventually we had exchanged numbers, which was the point of me sticking around. She was drop dead gorgeous and had a biting wit that I appreciated. I could definitely see us having a good time together. By the time I'd made it up to our room, Eric was nowhere in sight and Sookie was sound asleep, burrowed beneath her covers.

Glancing to the corner of the room, I was momentarily startled when I saw Justin Bieber's corpse reclining in the chair. Another moment's scrutiny revealed it to be Sookie in a dark purple sweatshirt with the hood up and a pair of dark black sunglasses. Her skin looked considerably paler than I knew it to be and a tiny fringe of her blonde hair was visible from under her hood. She had her feet perched up the suitcase in front of her and her hands in the hoodies pocket, clearly asleep in the chair. Sending up a silent thank you that we hadn't somehow massacred the teen pop icon, I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I threw on a robe and twisted my hair up into a towel before coming back out to my bed.

"Good morning," Sookie croaked, startling me. Honestly there was no other word for it, she sounded like a frog. Or toad. Must have been the cigarettes.

"Good morning, sunshine," I answered brightly, spinning to smile at her. She hadn't moved a muscle from when I'd seen her before my shower and if she hadn't spoken, I'd never have known she was alive, er, awake. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better than I was the first time I woke up," she told me, leaning up in her chair to cough a little. "You look pretty perky," she observed, obviously trying to wake herself up some.

"I am, actually," I admitted, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I'm surprised I don't feel more hungover, though. Is there anything you need?"

"Nah, I got some Tylenol and breakfast already," she waved a hand absently at the dresser where I noticed a bottle and a cup of coffee. "Just need to get up and moving is all, I'll be fine."

"Of course! I'm so sorry I slept in," I told her, feeling horrible that I was holding up her day. I knew this was a big deal for her, coming so far, and that she wanted to use her time wisely. She snorted.

"It's fine, really. I only woke up about an hour ago," she admitted. "I got a shower, got that stuff and fell back asleep over here after I ate. Seriously, don't feel bad," she stood up and stretched a bit, letting out a big morning groan. I smiled, glad she wasn't upset and jumped up to get some clothes.

"Ok then, I do feel a bit better," I told her as I rummaged in my suitcase. I was starting to think it might be wiser to unpack this stuff but decided to just get dressed for now. I pulled out a pair of trouser jeans and a dark red fitted t shirt for the day. Definitely a low key look but we were only shopping so it would be perfect. "How was that coffee?" I asked, nodding toward the cup on the dresser. I could definitely go for some.

"Tasted like Bohemian ass water," she grimaced. I made a face, imagining that must be some pretty nasty fucking coffee. She nodded, taking in my expression. "Yep, just as bad as it sounds. Definitely wait until we leave the premises."

"Duly noted. I'll Bieb right back," I joked as I walked past her to the bathroom. She barked out a laugh, clearly having caught my meaning.

"Don't Bieb hatin'!" she called after me. I chuckled as I shut the door and threw on my clothes. I decided to twist my hair into a bun and forgo makeup, so I was back out in under five minutes.

"Ready?" I asked brightly, popping on a pair of sandals.

"I was born ready," she informed me, standing slowly from her chair. "Oh God, my whole body is sore," she stretched to the side, groaning again. A moment later, she adjusted the hoodie and smoothed out her black leggings. "I really do look like the Biebenator, huh?" she grinned goofily at me from under her dark glasses. I nodded, cracking up at the terminology.

"Yes, you most certainly do. If you keep the hood up and try a higher pitched voice, we might nab a free lunch," I told her in mock seriousness.

"That is a fantastic idea!" she giggled at me. We left the room and headed towards the elevators. I could tell she wanted to say something but she didn't come out with it until we were in the lobby. "So is there anything I should know about the club last night? I didn't do anything too embarrassing, did I?"

"No, not at all," I responded cautiously. "What's the last thing you remember?" I asked, just to make sure I didn't try to gloss over Eric's presence if she remembered any of it.

"The last thing I remember, I was getting really tired and really drunk but we were still dancing," she answered slowly, like she was thinking it through as she told me. "I don't remember leaving at all and I'm hoping I wasn't a belligerent mess," she finished quietly.

"No! Not at all! You were really sleepy but everything was fine. When we left, I sat us down on a bench outside of the club and as I was calling a cab, a friend of mine and her brother offered assistance," I said quickly. Wasn't exactly a lie, since Pam was technically sort of my friend now. Not telling her that I didn't know Pam from Eve at the time was a tiny falsehood, perfectly permissible in my opinion. "They drove us back in their town car and her brother helped you up to the room." I hoped my cheery tone would fend off further questions and make her feel better but instead she groaned as we got into the Lexus.

"He's hot, isn't he?" she asked in a defeated voice. I looked at her, wondering what made her think that.

"Some women have said so, yes." I decided that was true enough without intimating too many details.

"And when you say he helped me, you mean he carried my oblivious ass up to the room, right?"

I snorted at her phrasing. "I thought you said you couldn't remember leaving?"

"I don't but my dress smelled like hot man cologne so I'm guessing it rubbed off from him since I don't remember spending time around any other guys," she explained. "And since I don't remember, I sincerely doubt I was doing a lot of walking. The only alternative would be getting carried." She leaned her head back against the seat and looked out the window.

"You ought to be a detective," I complimented her powers of deduction. She laughed at that, which was what I was going for. "Hey, I thought we'd killed Justin Bieber when I woke up. I'd say that was a bigger shock than finding out a hot guy carried you to your room." This got her howling and I smiled as I pulled on to the main road. It was going to be a good day.

_EPOV_

Regardless of what I tried, I could not get Sookie out of my head. As soon as I woke up, I thought about her. When we'd gotten back to the hotel, she'd been completely asleep on my lap. Knowing there was no way Amelia was going to be able to maneuver her, I offered to carry her up to their room. She gratefully accepted, sliding me a key out of her little purse. She told me she had an extra and asked if I would be okay taking her up alone. I assured her I would, seeing that she and Pam wanted to keep talking. She thanked me profusely before settling on a bench with Pam in the lobby.

I had pulled Sookie out of the backseat easily and positioned her in my arms to carry inside. She was a little thing and she fit there perfectly, I noticed. Halfway in, she had shifted her head so that her face was burrowed into my neck and I smiled to myself. Until her soft breath on my skin caused goosebumps to pop up and a gentle twist had her tits pressing into my chest. Then I hurried for the elevator, really not wanting anyone to see me carrying an unconscious girl into the hotel with half a hard on.

When I got to her room, I shifted most of her weight to my left side so I could unlock the door with my right hand and push it open. I wasn't sure which bed was hers, so I lowered her onto the one closest to the door. She flopped down and I turned to pull the covers down so I could get her settled in. When I turned back around, she was waking up. I froze, not sure what to do. I didn't want her to freak out seeing me there, even if she couldn't tell who I was. At the same time, I really wanted to tuck her in. I realize I'm a total lame.

While I was standing there, torn, she stood up and smiled at me with her eyes squinted. I had to smile back, even though I felt bad that she couldn't see anything.

"You said your name was Eric?" she asked dreamily, making me wonder if she was still asleep.

"Yes, I'm Eric," I answered slowly. She'd spun around then, causing me to reach out for her elbow to steady her. She was fine, though, and pointed over her shoulder at her back.

"Can you help me unzip that, Eric? Don't wanna sleep in ma dress," she explained, an adorable slur marring her pronunciation. I grinned at her request.

"Sure," I answered, taking a step closer to her. I gripped the zipper in one hand and caught a whiff of her perfume as I started pulling it down. She smelled amazing and I wasn't sure it was solely the perfume. It was probably a mix of that and her shampoo, since with my head bent to my task, my nose was hovering a few inches above her hair. I took the zipper down about halfway, not wanting to be a huge perv and asked if she could get it from there. She stepped forward with surprising speed, whipping the dress off before I could even turn around.

"Yep! Thanks," she answered, spinning back to face me in nothing but a teensy pair of black panties and a black strapless bra. I stood frozen, still not wanting to be a perv but not fully able to peel my eyes away at first.

"Here, why don't you hop into bed?" I offered, awkwardly moving to the side. She nodded, taking two steps and sinking a knee into the mattress.

"Oops! Almost forgot my bra," she muttered, reaching a hand around her back to spring the clasp open. I clapped my hand over my eyes so hard it actually hurt. "Gotta let the girls breathe," she explained. I heard some rustling and could only assume she was settling into the blankets. There was no way that hand was coming off my eyes until I was out of the room. I held my free hand out in front of me as a guide and made my way toward the door. Just as my hand found the knob, she called out in a fuzzy voice behind me. "Hey Eric?"

"Yeah?" I asked, in physical pain not only from cracking my knee against a table of some kind but also thanks to the sudden and extreme lack of space in the front of my jeans.

"Thanks for helping me," she mumbled. I had to smile.

"Anytime," I told her, slipping out of the room and running for my own like a mad man.

All I could do today was replay those events, picturing the smooth skin of her back, the little muscles above those panties moving as she lowered herself into the bed, the way the bra practically threw itself off of her body. I felt like a fucking kid on Christmas Eve, unable to wait until the following day. I knew I'd see her at the convention and only hoped I didn't make a royal ass out of myself when I did. I also hoped she didn't remember me helping her. Not that I would necessarily mind if she did, I just didn't want her to feel awkward about it. Especially not when she had no reason to. I'd spent my share of time around drunk girls and it was definitely not always a pretty sight. But she'd been one of the cutest drunks I could every remember seeing. Not sloppy so much as sleepy and I chuckled to myself remembering her talking about her contacts on that bench.

I could only imagine what Pam would say if she could hear my thoughts. Just imagining her being a telepath caused a shudder to roll down my back and I shook my head to clear it of the idea. Pam would be one of the last people on earth I'd want having access to my thoughts. Thinking of the devil, though, I decided to give her a call and invite her out to lunch. Spending the day in my room was going to make it drag like nobody's business. Letting her entertain me would be much better. Besides, maybe she'd talked to Amelia and I could find out if Sookie remembered anything. Maybe Pam was right after all. Maybe I was a twelve year old girl.

**A/N In case anybody was wondering, I cracked myself up with the Bieber thing hehe! Seriously, I was laughing so hard. I am such a tool. The song for this one is _What Happened_ by Sublime, even though Sookie's morning wasn't quite as crazy as the one in that song. Anyway, hope you guys liked it! More coming soon! Now that I know exactly what I wanna do, it's flowing pretty quick. Thank you so much for reading!**


	9. Too Sexy For His Shirt

**I realize I'm updating like a madwoman, but like I said, it's all smooth sailing from here. I probably won't have a chance to get anything written starting Monday since we all know going back to the office after a vacation is like hell on earth, so I'm trying to get as much done as I can before then. Hopefully you guys are enjoying this as much as I am =) CH/AB own all this stuff. And Stephenie Myers owns a name, I suppose I should add.**

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, bordering overwhelmed by the number of people milling about in the room. Don't get me wrong, I was comfortable with fame. It had taken some getting used to, especially in the beginning, but I'd come to terms with it. That being said, there is really nothing that can prepare you for a convention. Especially a vampire convention. People really go nuts for this kind of thing and the place was packed to capacity. I was sitting at a table with six of my cast mates from the series and we were all signing autographs. We were only one of the shows present, not to mention the stands set up for different book series as well, and this handshaking/poster signing portion would last all day. Intermittently, though, each of us would host a Q&A session in an auditorium kind of room.

There, reporters and fans alike could ask us questions directly. As much as I was honestly looking forward that part, I was also a little scared. People had a knack for asking things that nobody, especially not actors, wanted to answer. While I, personally, wasn't too concerned with answering anything too honestly, I knew Pam would have my balls on a platter if I made one false step. Technically Ginger was my agent, but we all knew Pam was running the show. Ginger was great when it came to negotiating deals, press conferences, and all that jazz. But Pam was the fierce guardian of my public persona and I had to admit I was grateful for it. Together, they made a hell of a team. At their insistence, I'd let Pam pick out my outfit and shaved my face that morning. I also wore my hair like my character on the show, sleekly gelled back.

A quick glance at my watch told me that I had another five hours until my Q&A session at four that afternoon and I swallowed a sigh. I was having a hell of a time focusing on each new fan, when all I really wanted to do was stare at the door until a specific fan walked through it. Yesterday had been torturous and today was proving to be even worse. I fought to keep a smile plastered on my face, though, knowing it was only fair to the fans. And I really did enjoy the chance to meet them, so I kept my mind focused (for the most part) on greeting each new person and taking a moment to sign whatever memorabilia they had. Once I got settled into a groove, I forgot to obsessively scan the area every few minutes for her and instead was able to chit chat with my costars and the fans as they approached.

Which is how she managed to sneak up on me in line. I had just finished signing a t shirt for a middle aged woman, who was chatting me up about a role I'd played in a movie a few years back. She was educated and I was enjoying the conversation while it lasted. She only lingered for a few moments, though, clearly being courteous of those in line behind her. When she moved, I still had a smile on my face which is good because I froze when y eyes landed on Sookie. She was wearing a gauzy navy blue shirt with a thin tank top under it and a pair of khaki shorts that ended about halfway down her thigh. The color of the shirt was the perfect backdrop for her eyes, making them pop. I noticed a leather strap across her chest and saw that she had a messenger bag slung to the side. She was wearing minimal make up and her hair was messy, but purposely so. Her look struck the perfect balance between casual and sexy and I couldn't make my mouth move at first. Luckily, Yvetta elbowed me, spurring me into action.

"Hello there," I said in what I truly hoped was a controlled voice. Her mouth moved but nothing came out at first. A moment later, she coughed, blushed voilently, and tried again.

"Hi, my name is Sookie Stackhouse," she told me, her voice raspy in a very sexy way that I didn't remember from the other night. I shifted in my chair, maintaing eye contact. Between the husky quality of her voice and the fact that her name alone put me in mind of a porn star, I was experiencing the shrinking jean phenomenon from the first time I'd met her.

"Pleased to meet you," I answered, leaning forward on the table with a smile. She hesitantly smiled back, her blush deepening. That made my smile get bigger and she responded, grinning from ear to ear. Her face was lit up by it and I reached my hand out to shake hers. For the first time, I felt like remaining seated was disrespectful but there was no way in the fiery pits of hell that I was standing up right then. I was liable to put her eye out if I did, and that was so not happening. She took a step toward me, leaning forward quickly and grabbing my hand. The sudden closeness lent me a whiff of her outstanding smell at the same moment that her little hand closed around mine. I squeezed gently, feeling the softness of her skin under mine and picturing other soft parts of her under me as well.

"I'm a really big fan," she informed me in an awed tone, holding tightly to my hand. I almost responded 'Me, too,' but luckily caught myself.

"I'm so happy you like the show," I said instead, when really I wanted to clear the table in one sweeping motion and throw her down on top of it. _Reign it in, Northman!_

"Oh, I do like the show but only because you're in it," she told me. I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I've been a fan of yours since _Katztricket_," she told me, obviously shy as soon as she said it. That shocked me, I had to admit.

"Are you Swedish?" I asked in surprise, realizing I still had her hand in mine but not minding it. She smiled brightly at my question.

"No, I was born and raised in the good old USA," she told me. "My daddy was a huge fan of foreign films and I kind of picked the habit up from him," she answered. I noticed she used the past tense and also that she her gaze faltered when she said that but she pressed on. "I get them through this film exchange online. Most of them are subtitled, but I like them even when they're not. And now I'm babbling," she finished, blushing even more. If she kept on at this rate, she was going to pass out soon.

"Not at all," I assured her. "You're intriguing," I added. Her eyes widened but she thankfully didn't topple over. Dropping her gaze, she seemed to realize that she hadn't let me go yet and dropped my hand. I wanted to protest at the loss but decided not to go full out crazy on her.

"Sorry about that," she mumbled quickly. With that, she laid a picture on the table and slid it cautiously over to me. It was a print from _Om Aina_, a film I'd done in Sweden a few years back, and I was posed with the actress I'd starred with. Whose spidery signature was scrawled under her face and I looked up, shocked again. "I got it online, from an auction for a charity she supported. I figured it would be nice if I could get you to sign it to?" she squinted face like she was embarrassed.

"Absolutely!" I exclaimed, signing across my chest in the photo. "You really a fan," I observed, glancing up at her with a smile. It was so gratifying to learn that she really admired my work and not just my half naked body on the show.

She gave me a small but genuine smile. "You could say that," was her only response. She cleared her throat, sliding the photo over to her side of the table to pick it up. "Thank you so much," she told me, sincerity dripping off her words. I realized with a panic that she was leaving, but there was nothing I could do. I had to keep the line moving and it would just be way too weird to ask her out right then.

"You're quite welcome," I answered, since I had no other choice. "Thank you for being a fan and I hope I'll see you in the Q&A session this afternoon," I added because I couldn't help myself. She blushed again and took a couple of unsteady steps to the side before she turned and walked more purposefully away. I watched her go for a moment before turning my attention to the next person in line. Yvetta cleared her throat beside me and when I glanced over, she had her eyebrows raised. I shrugged at her, hoping to downplay my obvious interest. She chortled but went back to signing the book the person in her line had handed her.

I spent the rest of the time before the Q&A in a daze, trying to catch glimpses of her when I could and attempting small talk with each new fan that appeared. I noticed that she didn't go to any other television series but lined up at various authors booths, her friend Amelia popping up every so often and talking with her briefly before drifting off again. She also waited for Edward Cullen's signature. I sent him daggers of death via eye wave from across the room when he started chatting with her but he seemed unfazed. Damned glittery bastard.

_SPOV_

I could not believe I had met Eric Northman. Looked him right in his face and shook his hand, too! I was so proud of myself for staying conscious and not peeing my pants. I also had managed to get the signatures of four authors I admired and Edward freaking Cullen to boot. He was hot, but he was small potatoes compared to Eric Northman. Eric Effin' Northman! Ahh, I could die a happy woman now. And he had told me he hoped to see me at his Q&A. Which was exactly where I was at four o'clock sharp. You just didn't miss something like that. Amelia had been mingling with other fans most of the day, explaining that she already knew all of the actors she wanted to meet, with the exception of the mysterious Danish guy from our show who went only by Godric. He, however, wouldn't be there until the following day. In the meantime, she would pop up every now and again to check on me or tell me some freaky story about some crazed fan she'd chatted with. She had met one of the other girls from the fan fiction site we both wrote for, which was pretty cool. She'd let her know I was there too and we were going to meet up at the Vampire Ball the following evening.

I'd had to sit near the back by the time I got into the room since most of the other seats were already taken but I didn't give a good goddam. I could see him clearly and since he had a microphone, I wasn't worried about missing any of his responses. Amelia came sneaking in a few minutes later, snatching the seat next to me just as a young guy was preparing to sit there. She didn't look very sorry and at the moment I couldn't find it in myself to care. My eyes were glued to the front, on the hot hunk of man settled on a stool in the center of the stage.

He was wearing a pair of jeans (and sweet Jesus did he know how to wear a pair of jeans) and a black v neck sweater. He had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his hair was slicked back like his character on the show wore it. He had his feet up on the bottom orange of the stool and his big body leaned forward slightly, big hands resting on his knees. There was just so much of him, spilling off of that stool and the way he glanced lazily around the room reminded me of a jungle cat. It was almost physically painful to look directly at him, so I tried to only do it in small increments in a dead on stare. I also attempted turning my head slightly and shifting in my chair to get a side glimpse every few minutes.

"What are you doing?" Amelia asked under her breath.

"It burns my eyes to look directly at him," I hissed. She barely suppressed a cackle. "Seriously, I'm in pain over here!"

She shook her head, chuckling at my antics. Against my will, I found myself humming the tune of a particularly annoying Right Said Fred song from my youth but I managed to settle down once the questions started. The first few questions were pretty basic. Stuff like, _Why do you think people like vampires? _and _Do you ever bite your fans?_ Things he'd answered a zillion times. I hung on every word though, I'm not gonna lie. Just as I was getting comfortable in my seat, feeling like a piece of the background and melting into my surroundings, his eyes scanned the audience. They flitted right over me, which wasn't really surprising. I mean there were easily two hundred people in the room. Besides, there was no reason for him to recognize me and especially no reason for him to be seeking me out. Sure, he'd said he hoped to see me there but he probably said that to every fan that had waited for his signature.

But then he looked back, almost immediately, eyes settling right on me. It took me a minute to realize that he was looking at me, but then I got that electric feeling and felt my whole body flush. I froze, completely helpless. All I could do was stare back at him, my mouth slightly open, my heart hammering in my throat. He held eye contact for what seemed like a century but could only have been a few seconds before he broke and looked at the person asking the next question.

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?" he asked politely, glancing back at me as he spoke. My body was on fire, throbbing everywhere, and I was seriously about to pass out.

Amelia grabbed me arm, shaking me lightly. "Here, take a drink of this," she whispered, shoving a water bottle at me. I grabbed it and sucked in a deep breath, looking over at her nodding.

"Yes, water. Water is good, yes. I like it, I like water," I mumbled, uncapping it and taking a sip. She grinned at me, shaking her head.

"You have really got it bad," she remarked. "Looks like he does, too," she tilted her head, indicating the Nordic Prince on stage. I choked on the water I had been in the middle of swallowing, clutching my throat as I leaned forward. She pounded me on the back and I spluttered a bit but got myself under control within a few seconds. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and glanced back up on stage. Eric was tensed up and looking in my direction but seemed to relax a little as I watched. I was seriously on a whole different planet if I thought he was in any way affected by me, and so was Amelia.

I settled back in my seat, sufficiently calm. He continued to field the questions thrown at him with ease, answering exactly as predicted. The thing about celebrities is that they're never really candid, and that was especially the case with him. He had this uncanny ability to word his responses so that you felt he sufficiently answered the question but when you thought about it, he hadn't really said a damn thing. I was lulled into a false sense of security by the steady cadence of his voice and so when the staff finally made their way to the back and asked if I had a question, I accidentally said yes.

When I say 'accidentally', what I mean is that I did have questions but none that I had any intentions of asking. However, I said yes and before I knew I what was happening, I was standing there with a microphone in my hand and two hundred and one pairs of eyes on me. I cleared my throat nervously and started talking, only partially aware of what I was saying at first.

"You've been voted Sweden's Sexiest Man five times in a row," I stated, fully aware by the time I finished the sentence that it wasn't a question. He was staring directly at me, perched on that chair all hot and whatnot, and I can only plead temporary insanity for the words that I uttered next. "Obviously, Sweden knows what it's talking about." Again, not a question, I realized. He did smile at me though, and the crowd around me laughed and even woo'ed a little, but I still needed to turn this into a question somehow. "How does that make you feel?"

He shifted on his stool and started to answer, but I cut him off. Yes, you heard me right. I cut him off. "Before you answer, how does it _really_ make you feel? Candidly, honestly, seriously. That's a pretty big deal. What runs through your mind after something like that?"

He grinned at me and nodded slightly. I could seriously have qualified as a medical miracle right about then, since there is no godly reason I was still conscious at that point. " Every single day, I wake up and look in the mirror and think, five times, motherfucker. Five times."

I laughed, delighted, but it was drowned out in the applause of the crowd. The staff member who'd given me the microphone took it again, patting me on the back and smiling as she moved on. I sat down in a stupor, utterly amazed at his response. I mean, it was pretty fitting though. Probably exactly what I would think if it was me. Amelia was grinning from ear to ear and I was vaguely aware that there was a stupid smile still plastered on my face. The questioning continued and I kept sitting there and staring at him and listening to his answers. Every once in a while, he would glance back at me and give me a little grin, but I'm fairly certain those were just delusions on my part.

As the questioning drew to a close, Amelia asked me if I wanted to go with her to get some dinner. Her friend Pam had invited her to some restaurant nearby just before she'd slipped into the session. Apparently this Pam's brother was going too, who she assured me was a nice guy. She wanted to go back to the hotel to get changed before then and was planning to leave in a few minutes. I agreed, knowing that there was nothing else going on at the convention that I was interested in staying for that night. We sat there just long enough to see Eric walk off the side of the stage, shaking hands with some staff members as he went. I followed Amelia out of the hall in a stupor, still amazed that I hadn't passed out at any point.

**A/N First things first, I flubbed up the names of the movies Sookie cited just because I'm not certain of how to disclaim them. So if you're wondering about **_**Katztricket **_**or **_**Om Aina, **_**they're not really for real. Close, but not white the real names. Also, I pinched a line from a recent ASkars interview for Mens Journal, where he really did say that spiel about 'Five times, motherfucker. Five times." I had to use it because honestly, it's pretty fucking awesome that he said it. The song for this one is **_**I'm Too Sexy**_** by Right Said Fred, because I think we can all agree that Eric (read: ASkars) is too sexy for his shirt (so sexy, in fact, that it hurts). Lastly, I have no idea how conventions are run and everything I've written about getting autographs and the Q&A session is only how I imagine one should be done. So if you've ever been to one and it's nothing like that, don't be surprised. Ok that's all from me for tonight, I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading, you guys are awesome =)**


	10. I'm Not That Girl

**Here's one more! Hee! Back to work tomorrow, stupid RL. Thanks for reading and I hope you like this one! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

_APOV_

I was hesitant to tell Sookie that Pam's brother was Eric but at the same time, I didn't want to surprise her after seeing her reaction to him at the convention. She'd been on the verge of passing out when he had casually made eye contact with her, for crying out loud. The last thing I wanted was for her to pop an aneurysm at the dinner table. Plus I was afraid I would damage our relationship if I didn't tell her. We'd gotten on famously so far and I was coming to count her as one of my very few actual friends. We'd had a blast shopping the day before, slipping in Bieber jokes every now and then, and just enjoying each other's company. I would hate it if that was damaged because I didn't warn her. With that thought in mind, I knew I had to say something but found myself in the awkward situation of not being sure how to broach the topic.

I thought over a few ways I could say it (_Oh, by the by, Pam's brother? Yeah, it's Eric Northman. I didn't tell you that? Huh, weird.._ for example) while simultaneously convincing her to let me put her make up on. I'd done it for Lava & Ignite and she had loved it, so I used that for leverage. In one of my endeavors to annoy my dad, I'd decided to become a cosmetologist. While I had never quite made it through the program, I had started a pretty successful makeup channel on Youtube and really enjoyed doing it.

"Now I'm going in with MAC Fluidline," I muttered, sweeping a thin line along her lashes.

"The narration thing is really creepy, case you were wondering," she said without moving her facial muscles a bit.

"I'll have you know that I used to run a makeup channel and the narration is ingrained in my being," I retorted, finishing her other eye. "Now let me see," I instructed. She popped her eyes open and I studied my handiwork. I'd gone with a tinted moisturizer on her face since her skin was basically flawless in the first place. On top of that I'd dabbed a bit of apricot colored cream blusher and a swipe of highlighter along the tops of her cheekbones. For her eyes, I used a light fawn colored shadow and a simple sweep of black liner, with a slight flick at the outer corners. "Perfect," I declared. "Now a bit of mascara and some brow gel and you, my friend, are ready to go."

"I don't understand what the big deal is, it's not like I need to be all dolled up," she grumbled, pulling a ridiculous open mouthed face to get her eyes open as far as possible when I went in with the mascara. I bit my lip, deciding it was now or never. As I finished up with the mascara, I shoved the wand back into the tube and let out a sigh.

"Well, the thing is," I started, opening the brow gel. "You probably do want to look good for this dinner," I quickly swiped the spoolie along each brow, combing the hairs into an orderly line.

"How come?" she asked, fiddling with a tube of lipstick from my case. I sighed, tossing the gel back in with the rest of my cosmetics.

"Pam's brother is Eric Northman," I blurted, bracing for her reaction. She squinted her eyes for a second, sizing me up.

"Yeah right," she laughed after a moment's deliberation.

"Seriously, it really is. I kid you not," I told her in a serious tone. I watched the realization sink in and then she was off like a shot. She was all over the room, darting back and forth, babbling in a completely incoherent shriek. I couldn't even keep up with her, she was so agitated. Finally she stopped in the middle of the room, holding a shirt up in each hand.

"Which one?" she asked, eyes bugging out of her head. "Which shirt should I wear?"

I cracked up, pointing to the light gray pullover in her right hand. "The gray," I answered. She dropped the other shirt on the ground and ran to the bathroom. When she came out a moment later, she had the shirt on and it did look really good. It had 3/4 sleeves with a single roll, showing a navy blue underside. There was a modified collar and it had a deep v neck with a few low buttons on it. It hugged her body and showed her cleavage to perfection. Sexy, but very understated. I nodded in approval.

After a few more frenzied moments, she put on a pair of dark denim bermuda shorts which also had a cuff and a pair of black wedge sandals. After I got dressed, in a black military romper with a pair of gladiator sandals, we headed to the car. Where I was under rapid fire questioning the entire way to the hotel. She seriously could have been a detective, based on the scope and intensity of her questioning. Either that or a member of the Gestapo.

_EPOV_

I was stupid excited about going to dinner with Sookie, even if Pam and Amelia were going to be there. Right after my Q&A session, Pam had accosted me and told me about our plans. At first, I thought she was going to freak out on me about my response to Sookie's question but as it turned out, she had actually liked it. It was 'ballsy' in her opinion, but it had gone over well so she wasn't bitching. Instead, she told me she had run into Amelia and invited her out for dinner. They had come up with the genius plan to make this a sort of double date on their own, which was fine by me. I was super stoked to see her again and borderline nervous. Which was new for me but I was taking it in stride.

Since we were on a time crunch and Pam of course had to change her outfit, I went with her to Gingers place a few streets away from my hotel. Pam had a weird phobia of staying in hotels, I have no idea why, so she would only do it when she had absolutely no other choice. Conveniently enough, Ginger happened to have 'places' almost everywhere we went. Obviously, she rented homes to put Pam at ease, which was more than ok by me. Ginger had kind of stepped into the 'nurturing mother' role for Pam about ten years ago. Our own mother loved us, sure, but she was a doctor who took her work very seriously. She didn't have much spare time and even less of a nurturing instinct. Pam would never admit she needed either, but Ginger discreetly filled the role and none of us ever commented on it.

While I waited in the foyer for Pam to get changed, I inspected myself in a mirror. Not too bad. My hair was holding up and my outfit still looked pretty fresh. How, I had no idea, since I'd been wearing it for over twelve hours by that point, but I was happy nonetheless. Before I had a chance to get bored, Pam came whirling into the room, modeling her outfit to me. She was in a pair of chinos and a dark pink sweater. I smiled, shaking my head slightly at her fashion sense. She somehow was able to make the Soccer Mom Barbie look into something of a hip style. No clue how she did it.

"Looks great, as usual," I told her. She grinned.

"I know," she agreed, marching past me to the door. I shook my head again and followed her.

On the drive to the restaurant, she was suspiciously silent. While I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I just had to know what was on her mind. Call me a glutton for punishment. "What is it?" I finally asked, just as I was pulling into the parking lot. I glimpsed her smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Nothing."

"Something."

"Whatever, I'm nervous ok?" she retorted. That was definitely unexpected.

"You? Nervous? Should I set the DVR to record the winter olympics in hell later tonight?"

She cracked a smile at that. "Amelia seems really nice, that's all. Whatever." Well, well, well. Pam had a little crush. This ought to be interesting. I decided to forgo poking fun at her for the moment, instead parking the car and getting out quickly enough to open her door for her. She stepped out, glancing toward the door of the restaurant before looking up at me. She really was nervous.

"Hey, I'm the idiot who's supposed to be acting like a little girl," I told her, earning a smile. "So pull your balls out of your stomach and get in there."

"Thanks for the pep talk," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she marched forward. I smiled as I saw her tilt her head up and straighten her back. I took a deep breath, remembering suddenly that I was about to have dinner with Sookie. I had no idea what made me so nervous about her, God knows I'd dated more than my share of women. There was just something about her, even though I'd only officially met her once (that we could both remember, anyway) I had the distinct feeling that I wanted to get to know her better. Not only in the biblical sense (although I _definitely_ did) but all around. I wanted to know what she liked, other than my movies (a fact that made me squee with glee like a six year old), what hobbies she had, what she did for work. All of that. I couldn't understand it but I decided to just go with the flow. After all, I was a nice guy. There was no reason she shouldn't want to get to know me better, too.

At least that's what I kept telling myself.

_PPOV_

Luckily for me, Eric and Sookie were far more nervous than I was. Not that I was nervous, really. Ok whatever, I was nervous. Either way, they were both blushing and stuttering over themselves for the first half hour of our dinner so I was able to smile knowingly at Amelia and get over myself pretty quickly. The only reason I was even nervous in the first place was because not only was she smoking hot, she had great style, and she was also used to be treated differently because of money she did nothing to earn. Which meant we had a lot in common, which was a first for me. When we had talked in the lobby that night after the club, it came up in our conversation that she drove a Lexus LFA. Knowing that model, I had to know how she could afford it, which led to her grudgingly telling me about her dad. Of course I'd heard of Copley Carmichael before, but I would never have put two and two together. After that, our conversation flowed really smoothly and I was looking forward to spending more time with her.

Although I would have gone even if she hadn't been there, just to watch Eric squirm. It was fascinating but at the same time scary. While he tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, I'd never seen him actually fidgety over a woman before and all of my senses were on red alert. Amelia hadn't told me much about this Sookie character but I could tell from what she had said that she cared about her. They seemed to be pretty good friends but since I had no idea how they were affiliated, I hadn't ruled her out as a gold digger just yet.

Luckily they seemed to get a little more comfortable around the hour mark. While it was amusing at first, it had started to get downright painful after a while. But once the main course was served, Eric managed to start joking a little and Sookie responded immediately. Soon, they were cracking us all up and it was turning into an unexpectedly lovely evening. Apparently, Sookie was a huge fan of my brothers, and had been since his first notable role in Sweden. Which earned her a couple of points in my book. Lately most of the girls that fawned over him were only fond of his repeatedly exposed torso from the vampire series he starred in. I had to admit it was a pretty good show, but there was so much more to my brother as an actor than the character he portrayed in it.

Also earning her points was the fact that she was clearly very smart and from the little she said about her career, she seemed very driven. I was torn on my official opinion of her when about halfway through our dinner, she excused herself to go to the restroom. Which was my cue. Hot on her heels, I followed her into the powder room and waited patiently by the sink while she was in a stall. When she walked out, she let out a startled yelp on seeing me and I honestly could not help but smirk. I hadn't meant to scare her but thought it was pretty funny that I did.

"Jesus H, Pam! You scared the crap out of me," she scolded in a joking tone as she lathered up her hands.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to," I assured her. "Basically I just wanted to see what your intentions are." I said, shifting around and nailing her with a steely gaze. Or what I pictured as being a steely gaze, anyway.

"Come again?" she returned, raising an eyebrow at me in the mirror. Not easily intimidated. Noted.

"Certainly. I said I want to know what your intentions are. With my brother." I repeated in a monotone.

"I don't really have any 'intentions' with your brother," she answered as she ripped off a paper towel. "To be honest, I'm still pretty much in shock that I even met him, let alone have been able to speak in coherent sentences in his presence," she joked.

"The reason I ask is because he's not always as smart as he should be and he seems to be smitten with you," I decided to lay it out there, hoping she would follow suit. She flushed a deep red at my words, which supported her claims of being in shock of meeting him. Not like I hadn't already known that.

"I sincerely doubt he's 'smitten' with me. He's Eric Effin' Northman! Not the kind of guy I imagine gets 'smitten' a lot," she rejoined. I shook my head.

"I'm telling you, he's definitely interested. I just want to be sure you don't plan on using him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You mean for money?"

"For anything."

"Well I don't. Rest assured."

"Good."

"Fine."

I sighed. "Listen, I'm not trying to be a bitch or make you think I have a low opinion of you," I relented. "Honestly, you've been cracking me up and I do like you. I just have to look out for him. You understand?"

Her face softened a little. "Yeah, I get it. But honestly, I don't have any designs on him. I'm surprised I haven't passed out yet, to tell you the truth. I came here hoping to just get his autograph and having dinner with him is literally blowing my freaking mind right now. I just want to enjoy talking to him a little more, have a good time at the rest of the convention tomorrow, and get back to real life on Monday."

"You're going home on Monday?" I clarified, not sure where home was exactly but knowing it was in the US. The southern US, judging by her accent. She nodded.

"Yep, my flight leaves at ten in the morning. So until then, I just want to make the most of my trip. 'Kay?" she offered her hand. I grinned, shaking it.

"Kay," I agreed. Eric was not gonna like these plans of hers and I, for one, was looking forward to seeing what he planned to do in the meantime.

_SPOV_

After my run in with Pam the Pit Bull in the bathroom, the rest of the dinner went as smooth as you like. I was finally relaxed enough to engage in an intelligent conversation with Eric, which was nice. Well, if you count quoting lines from Land Of The Lost as an intelligent conversation, that is. To put it simply, I was having a blast. I couldn't believe the things we had in common! We liked a lot of the same movies, we were both runners, we liked all the same kinds of music. He even liked Secondhand Serenade, which was my favorite band. He claimed they were in his top ten, which I never expected.

By the time dinner was over, I was really not ready to part ways, but I sucked it up. On the way out to the car, Amelia elbowed me a couple of times until I finally got the hint to slow down and walk next to him. I couldn't believe how tall he was in real life. I kept craning my neck up to make sure he was for real standing there, and every time I looked up, he was smiling down at me.

"I'm really glad I had the chance to meet you," he said as we walked out of the restaurant. I beamed up at him.

"Glad doesn't really begin to cover it," I replied and then immediately blushed. "For me, anyway," I mumbled. He laughed at that, the sound like a chorus of angels to my ears. Ok that was cheesy but it was a gorgeous sound.

"I agree, I've really had a great time getting to know you," he told me. My heart skipped a beat. Literally. Skipped a beat. This was Eric Northman, folks. I peeked over at him to see if he was serious and that's when I noticed his body language. He was walking slowly, obviously letting my itty bitty legs keep pace with him, and he was ever so slightly hunched, with both hands in his pockets and _the_ most adorable little grin on his face. I felt a little wobbly as I realized that maybe Pam was right; maybe he _was_ smitten with me. That thought was just too much for my lowly human mind to comprehend and I felt all the blood rush to my head to try to help it out.

"Me too," I answered, trying to mentally get my shit together. Thinking through this rationally, it didn't really matter whether he had a thing for me or not. Number one, I was not doing the relationship thing again. Period. Already been there, done that, and it didn't matter who it was with, it was not for me. Number two, this was Eric Northman. I felt like that was a valid thing to remind myself of. Number three, I was going home on Monday morning and it was already Saturday night. Outside of a steamy hot hook up, there wasn't a whole lot of time for romance. And while the thought of getting naked with the fine example of a man beside me was enough to make my panties hit the pavement and knock a whole clear to China, I wasn't a fan of sleeping with him after just having met him that day.

I don't mean to sound like a prude, and trust me, I'm not at all. I've had my requisite one night stand (or two) and I'm not trying to make it sound like I was above it. Meeting a guy out on the town, having a good time, nobody getting hurt, there's nothing wrong with that. What made this situation different was that this was Eric Northman. Voted Sexiest Man in Sweden _five times in a freaking row!_ International Panty Dropper Extraordinaire. While essentially the situation wouldn't have been that much different than your every day run of the mill one night stand, I wasn't a fan of being a notch on his bedpost. Whether or not he was interested in me didn't really matter. Just because he was unutterably gorgeous and famous didn't mean I should be expected to sleep with him.

After hashing that out with myself, I relaxed a little. "So what are you on the schedule for tomorrow?" As if I didn't know.

"I'll be doing photoshoots from eight until four I think, and then after that I'll just be expected to be dressed and back for the ball by seven," he answered. I nodded, knowing that better than I knew the back of my own hand. Amelia and I were going to have our pictures taken with him at two. "Are you coming by for a shot?" he asked, a little flirtatiously.

I blushed about four shades of red and tried to answer in a nonchalant tone. "I think so, probably. I mean, yes. At like two or something. Actually, two on the dot. It's two, my appointment." Damn the rambling, damn it straight to the pits of hell! He chuckled and I wanted to look up at him so much but I was too embarrassed. We stopped a few feet away from the Lexus and he faced me, shifting from foot to foot. I smiled at my own feet, which was basically the only place I could look at that moment.

"Hey," he said softly, causing my eyes to raise up to his against my will. He was still kind of smiling. "Don't get all shy on me again, we were making progress back there," he tilted his head to indicate the restaurant.

"I know, I just, I really can't believe I'm actually talking to you right now," I murmured. Way to keep it casual, Stackhouse. "I mean, I'm such a huge fan and you're obviously _you_ and I really had a great time at dinner, I just I can't sleep with you," I blurted. My heart stopped beating and I swear to Jesus I could have bitten my tongue off at that moment. My face blushed so hard I could feel the heat wafting off of it; I was totally mortified. "What I mean is, oh God. I was thinking a minute ago about sleeping with you, I mean, not that I was like picturing it, although I have before, a lot, oh God. What I'm trying to say is I'm not that kind of girl. I mean, I am that kind of girl, I do have sex. I mean, I have had sex before, obviously, I'm not some kind of freak virgin at the age of twenty five, I do like having sex, and I think it would be really amazing to do it with you but I-"

"Slow down," he interrupted me, putting his hand on my forearm which was gesticulating wildly. I let out a huge sigh and he chuckled. "We don't have to have sex," he told me quietly. I chanced a peek up at him and noted the sincerity in his face. "I'm not saying I wouldn't like that very much, because I absolutely would. I mean, look at you," he explained, making my heart vibrate in my rib cage while my pants tried to unbutton themselves. "But I'm not expecting that. I've honestly just had a great time talking with you. You seem like a genuinely good person, and I like that." I smiled at that, feeling a little better. Although it would have been nice if he really could glamour people because my little bout of verbal diarrhea would be haunting me for years to come. But I did feel a little bit better.

"Well, thank you. You too," I answered. He grinned at me.

"So I'll see you tomorrow? At two?" he asked hopefully.

"You bet your sweet ass you will," I answered and then grimaced at my idiotic choice of words.

He laughed out loud and pulled me in for a hug. Which had the direct effect of nearly putting me into cardiac arrest. He was all around me, his arms draped around my waist, his big man hands folded right above my butt, his chest against my face. I almost forgot to breathe. Luckily, I remembered just in time to avoid passing out. When I inhaled, I got a nose full of the best man smell I'd ever smelled in my life but I had the distinct impression I'd smelled it before. I couldn't place it, but it was definitely familiar. Weird. The hug ended all too soon and before I knew it, I was driving back tot he hotel with Amelia. I tried to focus on her gushing about Pam but all I could think about was two o'clock the next day.

**A/N Stupid Sookie! Just kidding, although luckily it's not me in that story, or else there would have been some indecent public exposure! The song is **_**I'm Not That Girl**_** by Idina Menzel (from Wicked). I thought the first verse was especially apropos for this chapter: **_**Hands touch, eyes meet. Sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy whirl. He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl. **_**Hopefully, I'll be able to update another couple times this week but worst case scenario is this weekend. Thanks SO much for reading =)**


	11. One Night Only

**Ok I had to do one more before I get back to RL this week. Hope you guys like it! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

_EPOV_

I was a complete mess on Sunday. Which was fucking fantastic, since I was taking pictures with fans all day. I couldn't stop thinking about dinner with Sookie and how much fun it had been. We'd really had a lot in common and I was having such a good time. And then she got all cute when we walked out into the parking lot, blushing every thirty seconds. Her speech about not being 'that kind of girl' went right along with the impression I'd gotten from her throughout the course of the meal and it was utterly adorable. That's not to say she didn't dash my hopes and send my penis into a downward spiral of depression, but it was still cute.

Not that I was expecting her to jump on me or anything like that, but I'd fantasized about having sex with her more than once now and according to Pam, this weekend was to be my only shot. Apparently Sookie was going home on Monday, wherever home was for her, and I would most likely never see her again. I still had her photo shoot, though, and surely I would see her at the ball later that night. I wanted to at least friend her on Facebook. Or maybe start following her on Twitter. Something unobtrusive enough that it wouldn't seem crazy for me to do but still allow me to keep in some kind of contact with her.

I just couldn't stop picturing her smile, the cute little dimples appearing in her cheeks, the way her eyes glittered when she laughed. Man, I had it bad. And there was really nothing I could do about it, which was the infuriating part. Surely I wasn't the first person to be in this situation, which is what I kept repeating to make myself feel better. Thing was, I didn't really give a shit about anybody else's woe at that point. How I made it through the morning was anybody's guess. It helped that the shoots were pretty standard. Each fan got two shots, one regular and one with fangs. Cheesy, I know, but also fun. When I let myself focus on it, of course. Luckily, the day could drag on only so slowly and when two o'clock finally rolled around, I had to physically refrain from dancing around the little room I was in.

One of the attendants showed her in right at two and I couldn't help grinning like the village idiot at her. She was wearing a simple cotton sundress in a dark orange color, which accented her tan perfectly. It had thin little straps and ended modestly just above her knees. I noticed she'd left her hair dry today, which gave her a softer look. Her make up was understated, which was her style, as far as I could tell.

"Sookie," I smiled, reaching out to pull her into another hug. I have no idea when I had become such a touchy feely douche, I just honestly couldn't help it where she was concerned. She giggled, squeezing her arms around my middle. When she pulled back, I missed the warmth of her body next to mine and had to dropkick my brain back into the moment. "It's good to see you again," I told her honestly. She blushed just a little at that.

"You too!" she answered enthusiastically. "I have to tell you, I feel a little silly with this whole picture thing," she said, gesturing to the room with one of her hands.

"Nah, it's no big deal. I do it all the time," I joked. She laughed at that, which automatically made me smile back.

The photographer took over from there, showing her exactly where to stand and telling me how to pose next to her. I peeled off the leather jacket I'd been wearing for the other shoots. While it was in character for the show, I felt like it was a little too rough next to her sundress. Most of the other fans had been in dark toned, edgier outfits, so the leather had gone well with them. For Sookie, I thought the white t shirt I had on under my jacket meshed a little better. She blushed, of course, when I told her I wanted to match her.

We took the fang-less shot standing next to each other, facing the camera. I smiled, but not too much, being a little self conscious about my overbite because I obviously had lost all manhood by that point and worried about shit like that now. Sookie was smiling from ear to ear but just before they took the shot, she looked up at me for some reason, which actually turned out to be a pretty cute picture. Even though I offered to do another so we could both look at the camera, she refused.

When I put the fangs in for the second shot, Sookie thought it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever seen. Between laughing fits, she explained that she thought it was the hottest thing, and I quote, 'of life' seeing our fangs on the show. However, seeing it in the flesh, she thought I just looked stupid. Which she said and then immediately apologized for. I assured her I didn't mind, assuring her that I thought I looked 'thtupid' as well, which triggered a whole new laughing fit when she heard the way I spoke with them in. When we film the show, a lot of the fang stuff is added digitally, so I wasn't a total master of speaking with them in.

For that photo, since she was so short, the photographer had her sit in a chair with me on my knees behind her. I grabbed her shoulders, she leaned her head to the side, and I pretended to be leaning in to bite her neck. It turned out cute as well, although being so close to her neck did terrible things to my groin area. Sadly, the whole thing was over much too quickly and I barely had the chance to confirm that she would be at the ball before she was whisked out of the room and the next fan was brought in.

_SPOV_

Amelia was really starting to wear on my resolve. I'd told her all about the conversation I'd had with Eric the night before and how I'd basically humiliated myself with the whole 'I don't want to sleep with you' thing. She'd looked confused, so I explained my thinking to her. When I had said to myself, in my head, it had made perfect sense. When I repeated it out loud to her, it sounded a little silly. Which may have been due, in part, to the look she was giving me as I said it. When I finished up with my train of thought, she'd sat there for almost a full minute before speaking.

"So let me get this straight. You would typically have no qualms about sleeping with a perfect stranger that you, say, met at a pub. But Eric Northman, who you've lusted after for approximately ten years, is a no go?"

Which gave me pause. "When you say it like that, it sounds a little silly. I guess what I mean is that I don't want to be just some random screw to him," I tried.

"He's already shown a clear interest in you, you two have had great conversations, you like him, for crissakes! I don't understand your logic," she rejoined.

"I don't know, it's hard to explain," was my lame response. She had quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Well, you're a grown woman. You can do what you want. But think about this, when you get back home to Mississippi-"

"Louisiana, thank you very much!"

"Louisiana, whatever. When you get back there, how are you going to feel about the fact that you passed on what could possibly be the only opportunity you'll ever have to make sweet monkey love with Eric Northman? Hm?" Since I couldn't think of an answer, I'd settled for squinting at her. "Seriously, think about that. You might be right, maybe he won't remember it forever. But you would. You would also remember passing up that opportunity."

And all day, I'd been trying to decide how I felt about that. Would I kick myself in the ass every day for the rest of my life for not being open to the opportunity? I was the first one to say I didn't want a relationship, so how could I turn around with a straight face and say I didn't want to have anonymous sex with a man that I had, as Amelia so aptly observed, lusted after for ten years? My mind was racing, trying to come up with the right answer. The photo shoot didn't exactly help matters, either. He'd been all cute and adorable and downright retarded with those fangs in his mouth. Not to mention that every time he had accidentally brushed against me, I had pictured him naked.

I finally had to draw a line in the sand. I promised myself that I would reconsider my decision at the Vampire Ball that night. If I felt differently then, I would change my mind. I was a grown woman, he was a grown man. If the evening evolved and I- oh, who was I kidding? The more I thought about Amelia's words, the more I knew I had to do it. There was no way I would be able to live with myself if I didn't. After all, I would seriously never get the chance to see him again and I had never considered myself to be the kind of girl who let opportunity pass her by.

If the evening went well, hopefully I would be ending it with Eric Northman.

_APOV_

It was amazing watching Sookie think. I could literally pinpoint the exact moment she changed her mind, based solely on the facial expressions she was making. I really couldn't understand where she'd gotten her original logic from and all it took was a couple of artfully worded sentences to make her rethink her decision.

Not that I was trying to force her into something she didn't want to do. Quite the contrary.

Based on what I knew of Sookie from our online friendship, and what I'd learned from getting to know her over the last couple of days, I knew that she would be kicking herself if she really passed up on the chance to be with Eric. Not to mention the insider info I'd gotten from Pam. She'd told me that Eric had been crushed after his parting words with Sookie, though he had tried to act like it was no big deal. If I could help it, I would stop her from making a mistake they would both regret. And when I saw the doubt starting to seep into her face, I knew I was getting through to her.

She didn't say anything to me about changing her mind, but she didn't really have to. I wasn't blind. I noticed the extra pep in her step and I had to be careful not to openly grin at her. Instead, I decided to get ready for the ball.

….

_EPOV_

It just so happened that I was looking toward the entrance at the exact moment that Sookie walked into the ball. Luckily I wasn't speaking to anyone, because the sight of her knocked the air out of me. She was wearing a pale yellow satin dress that fell to the floor. It was simple and elegant, a slight v cut in the front with thin straps on her shoulders. She was beautiful. As she walked through the open double doors, her eyes caught mine and she smiled brightly. I smiled back, putting my hand over my heart in an appreciative gesture.

She bobbed her head in acknowledgement and did a little spin, showing me the back of her dress and nearly giving me a heart attack. The back dipped as low as possible while still remaining decent with only two thin straps crossing at the bottom. Her entire back was on display, all tanned skin and graceful muscles. She finished her little turn and blushed when she saw my face. I only took a moment to collect myself and then I made my way to her side immediately. Which is where I stayed, as much as I could, for the remainder of the evening.

We didn't say much, mostly just dancing every time I had the chance. Of course I had to dance with other fans as part of the convention, but I returned to Sookie as much as I could. The way she was looking at me, even when I wasn't dancing with her, was doing things to my composure. If she hadn't made her wishes known the previous night, I would have sworn she was giving me bedroom eyes. She was all sexy confidence, any trace of the shy Sookie I'd known up until then was completely gone. The way she glided across the floor with me was making me think of a lot of other ways she could be moving with me and I couldn't stop my hands from drifting over her body just a little every time we danced.

The evening was drawing to a close and I was chatting with some women near a refreshments table. I knew the ball would be over momentarily and I was frantically thinking of anything I could do to prolong my time with Sookie when I glanced up and noticed her lingering near the doorway. When she saw me looking, she curled one finger toward herself. A person just can't ignore a summons like that. I immediately excused myself and made my way directly towards her with a purpose. She giggled when I practically skidded to a halt in front of her and I smiled intensely back at her.

"One night only," she murmured. I dropped my head closer to hers, convinced I was hearing things.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, my voice actually cracking.

"I can't stand the idea of never being with you and if you won't think any less of me for it, I would like very much to spend the night with you." Her voice was like sex in my ear and my skin caught fire as I absorbed her words. My eyes latched on to her face, her full lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed a lovely pink, blue eyes dark and wide. All I could do was nod, my heart thundering in my chest. Her lips curled into a seductive smile and she slipped one her hands into mine, leading me through the doors.

**A/N Whoa Sex Kitten Sookie! Hehe! I love this story so much. Thank GOD for Amelia talking some sense into her, eh? I couldn't leave it hanging not knowing when I could update again, so even though this one is short, I hope you still like it =) The song is **_**One Night Only**_** by Jennifer Hudson which is funny because the inspiration for Sookie's dress came from the one worn by Kate Hudson in **_**How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days.**_** I have loved that dress since I first saw the movie and thought it fit this Sookie perfectly. As for the Vampire Ball, yeah I have no clue about how any of this stuff works. The photo shoot, the fancy schmancy dress and dancing, that's all out of my imagination. But I hope you liked it! See you some time this week =)**


	12. Leavin On A Jet Plane

**This is a big 'un! Hopefully that makes up for the super long delay? Hehe. Thank you for your reviews, I heart them big time. Hope you guys like it! CH/AB own all this stuff.**

****_EPOV_

I woke up the next morning in a totally satisfied haze with Junior at halfmast as opposed to his usual rip roarin' ready to go morning status. Before I even opened my eyes, I reached my arm out to locate Sookie in the huge bed. After a few pats, I realized I was the only one in it and grunted in disappointment. Another minute and I sighed, pushing myself up onto my elbows. I blinked a few times, taking in the room before cracking an 'Aww how cute' shit-eating grin.

She had tidied up the mess we'd made the night before and I knew this because it no longer looked like I'd be robbed by blind burglars. We had busted into the room in full speed ahead mode, all over each other, bumping into stands and knocking over suitcases, lamps, you name it. We'd even collided with the desk, I remembered, rubbing absently at what was sure to be a record breaking contusion on my thigh.

You would have never known it now, though, by looking at the room. She had righted the lamps, pushed the desk back, even stuck my things back into my suitcase. Oddly enough, I didn't feel the urge to take an inventory and see if she'd swiped anything. She was unlike anyone I'd ever met and while I'll admit I didn't know her, I did know she wasn't a thief. Or a liar. No way can anybody fake the kind of sincerity I'd gotten from her over the couple of days I'd known her.

I also knew she was amazing in bed. .Zing. We had been in every position I knew about and I'm pretty sure we invented a couple. She certainly was not shy but not in a porn star 'what-do-you-want-my-name-to-be' kind of way. Even with her boldness in bed, she was genuine. Sincere. Just thinking about it had Junior getting a little taller and I smoothed my hand over him unconsciously through the blankets. She'd said 'one night only' and we'd sure as hell made it count. Although I found it hard to believe that she would stick to her 'wham bam never see your face again' plan after the utter awesomeness that had gone down last night. I threw the blankets to the side and hoisted myself up, stopping to grab some boxers out of a suitcase on my way to the bathroom. Plan was to brush my teeth and then call her room to see if she wanted to grab breakfast. I remembered the number from the night I'd carried her up after the bar. I made short work of the whole toothbrush scene and headed out to grab the phone off of the nightstand by the bed.

I dialed the number, let it ring about seven times, then hung up. Maybe she'd walked down to her room and gone back to bed. I so should have gotten her cell phone number last night but I was a little preoccupied. Sighing, I meandered around the room while I thought of a new plan. Maybe I could go to her room and knock? Yeah, and run the risk of looking stalkerish. I mean, I was past the point of pretending I wasn't a stalker when it came to Sookie but she didn't need to know the extent of my tendencies. Hm. I pulled the curtains open, hoping some sun would aid the thinking process.

Unfortunately, my run of good luck as far as English weather was concerned had apparently run out. The sky was a bland, dreary gray color and there was a steady drizzle raining down. Damn rain, I always found it to be an instant depressor. I studied the parking lot, watching people with no umbrellas run toward the building from cars while those with umbrellas took their time. There was a taxi pulled up against the curb near the entrance with a doorman loading suitcases in the trunk. Two big black umbrellas hovered near the rear door for a moment.

When one of the umbrellas closed, I realized Sookie was the person underneath it. She exchanged a quick hug with Amelia (who was Umbrella #2) after she'd tossed it in the backseat, then jumped in herself. Amelia stood on the curb waving as the taxi pulled out and my heart attacked the inside of my chest. She was leaving. Correction: She had left.

She'd been serious on the way back to the hotel when she gave me the whole spiel about how her 'one night only' plan was genius in it's simplicity. She'd confessed that she was no good at relationships (not that she was suggesting we would have a relationship, she clarified) anyway but with the connection she felt with me that last night would be a, what had she called it? An X-Rated Cinderella Story. I'd had a hard time keeping up with her last night, what with all my blood circulating in my pelvic region as opposed to my brain, but I was pretty sure that was what she'd said.

I stood staring out the window long after the cab was gone and Amelia had disappeared from the curb. She'd really left. I just couldn't believe it. No goodbye, nothing. Not even a note. Wait, was there a note? I spun around, eyes scanning every surface of the room but finding nothing. Even after a more thorough check of the area, I found nothing.

I shouldn't have felt as hollow as I did. It definitely was not the first time I'd had a one night stand, not by a long shot. At the same time, though, I wasn't really the heartless player type either and even if I hadn't liked Sookie as much as I did, I still would have felt a little off about it. I thought for a little while, sitting on the edge of the bed like a zombie, and then grabbed the phone again.

It rang twice this time before Amelia's voice chirped on the other end. She was entirely too chipper, in my opinion. I tried my best to be as cheerful as possible, asking her if she had any contact information for Sookie. The wind was majorly let out of my sails when she told me the only way they interacted was on some fan website. It took a while to extract the details from her and I realized once she'd filled me in that she was embarrassed. It was a fanfiction website, where they both wrote stories about the show I was on and the book series it was based from. I thought it was kind of sweet and harassed her until she gave me Sookie's pen name, which gave me a serious case of the OMGs; she wrote as EricsNumberOne and didn't that just inflate my ego to ten times it's normal size.

After wrapping up the conversation with Amelia, I got my laptop out and hot-fingered it over to the website. Pulling Sookie's profile up, I read the details and clicked a few links she had listed with captions naming the corresponding stories. The links were all to various pictures of me and the actress who portrays the leading lady of the series. I was too enthralled (and relieved that I wasn't the only one with a gold card to the stalkeratzi club) to pass up on reading the stories she'd written and I was shocked to find how good she was. And creative, too. Some of the scenarios she had dreamed up for the characters were so original, it was a shame she hadn't written them with her own characters. She definitely could have been published, in my opinion.

I was also scandalized (read: turned on) to see that she had written some sex scenes, especially when I realized that we had done a couple of the moves she'd described. I was all kinds of hyped up that I'd actually acted out some of her fantasies with her but that didn't help my current sitch. Which was me, alone, in a hotel room. I had no idea how to find her. Amelia thought she lived in 'Mississippi or Louisiana or Alabama or something. One of those southern states,' she'd said, which was oh so freaking helpful.

I didn't realize I'd spent the entire day reading her stories until I glanced up and saw that the sky through the window was totally dark. I was too bummed to give a shit, so I just ordered up some room service and continued reading. When I realized I could leave comments on the chapters she'd written, I actually fist pumped in my hotel room. Yes, yes I did. Then I signed up for an account and got to work.

_SPOV_

I was a total wreck on the way to the airport. The poor cab driver probably thought I was schizophrenic. Every two or three minutes I would order him to stop, only to tell him never mind as soon as he hit the brakes. I wanted so badly to turn around and go back up to Eric's room for one last kiss. God, the night before had been mind-blowing. I hadn't even known sex could be like that! And I had been as brazen as all get out, I blushed at the thought of some of the things I had done. And we were like animals, crashing into his room like there was no tomorrow, demolishing furniture left and right. I was pretty sure my spine was bruised, like the actual bones, not just the skin of my back. And there was a good five minute stretch where I'm almost positive I was speaking in tongues. Speaking of tongues.. Again with the blushing.

My flight was miserable, with me alternately turning beet red as I remembered bits and pieces of being with Eric and tearing up with the overwhelming sense of loss, which was stupid really since I had never technically had him in the first place. Further proof why it was better for me to have my 'no relationship' policy. Especially with Eric Effing Northman, who I had been obsessed with for more years than I cared to count. And especially not with the strength of the connection I felt to him after only a weekend. Yep, leaving like I did was the best policy. People in my family get too attached for their own good, which I had learned the hard way. Definitely didn't want to go that route.

When I finally landed back in Louisiana, Lafayette was waiting for me by the baggage claim. He was holding a cardboard sign that read 'My Bitch' and wearing one of his signature smirks. I simultaneously cracked up and burst into tears, which he absorbed in stride. Once we got my luggage, I realized that I had left my car in extended parking and didn't need a ride. When I reminded him, he told me he had gotten a taxi to the airport because he didn't want me to 'get home to nobody' and I told him how much I loved his guts.

He drove us home, which was awesome since I was utterly exhausted. Not too exhausted to fill him in on my weekend of woe, though. Or 'whoa', depending on how you looked at it. Lala went with 'whoa,' of course. He was impressed that I'd done it and refused to listen to my self pity, reminding me that a clean break was best in that situation. It's not like it could ever work out anyway. I mean, how in the hell could Eric have a successful acting career in Bon Temps? And I'd just bought my house, there was no way I was leaving it and relocating. Not that there was a chance of us being together anyway, especially since I _don't do relationships._ Yeah, I had to remind myself of that thought a couple hundred times over the next few weeks. Not to mention that I was sad at leaving Amelia, too. I'd been surprised by how well we'd gotten along and I was going to miss her sarcastic ass being around. Although, we still at least had the fanfiction connection and could chat to our hearts content in the fan chatroom. Plus with her dad being filthy rich, she could always come visit me some day. I hoped that we would be able to see each other again and not drift away like some friends do.

Getting home was like slipping into a pair of favorite jeans. Everything was familiar; my friends, my house, Gran. And everybody was waiting for me at home that first day, too, with barbecue galore. I got back into my regular routine immediately but couldn't shake the hollow feeling I had going about my daily activities. It was especially challenging because we'd put a hold on all training at work, so I was reporting to the local office every day and had no plans to travel for a while. And then major shit started happening and it was like a domino effect.

Gran fell and broke her hip at her new apartment. Since she didn't have anybody to take care of her, she moved in with me. I only argued with her for four days before she finally agreed. Then Lala's landlord got busted for selling whatever kind of drugs he sold and next thing you know, he was out on his butt. So I argued with him until he agreed to move in with me too. I had plenty of space, honestly the entire second floor and attic of my house were not being used for anything except scary ass sounds in the middle of the night. I really only used the kitchen, den, bathroom and one bedroom on the first floor. So when I finally talked him into moving in, he took up res on the second floor. Gran was in the guest bedroom on the first floor after adamantly refusing to take the master back over. Which I have to admit I was thankful for. I know it was my house, but I would have given the room up for her out of respect for her as a person and for her age.

Shortly after the three of us got into a routine, Tara's crazy ass mother threw her out and she showed up on our doorstep one afternoon. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to have her there as well. Two weeks later, as fate would have it, a fire broke out in Sam Merlotte's apartment complex in Shreveport. Which is where Jason and Jessica had just moved. Which left them without a place too. I can't say I was too crazy about Jason moving in, only because I wasn't yet convinced that he'd changed his ways and that it would work out between him and Jessica. But seeing the two together, it was hard to be pessimistic about their future. They just seemed so in love. So they took the attic, which Jason and Hoyt did a lot of refinishing on. Realizing my life had spun out of control and feeling bad for him being the odd man out, I offered the last bedroom on the second floor to Hoyt. He immediately took me up on the offer, more than ready to get away from his Mama. I can't say I blamed him for it, either. Bottom line is, within two months of my return from England, we had turned into a really fucked up, dysfunctional (but ultimately happy) Bon Temps Brady Bunch.

Now, with that many adults living in one home (regardless of how big that home might be) there are bound to be some issues. So we established what we dubbed 'Family Meetings' and held them every Sunday afternoon. The first meeting was where we figured out rent and whatnot. And despite my best efforts not to, I was making a huge profit with everyone paying what I considered to be far too much per month. They were all adamant, though, and got insulted when I tried to lower the rent. Gran paid less but that was because she made less and I refused to hear otherwise from her.

We also had to buy a second refrigerator and a couple of other new appliances (like a spare coffee pot - I went homicidal one morning when I didn't have my brew and Tara came home with a Keurig that evening), which we all pitched in for. Grocery shopping was done twice a week. We kept a community list on one of the fridges; when you emptied something, or got a craving for something, you wrote it on the list. Going twice a week meant we never had to get too huge of a grocery haul, and it kept us stocked pretty well. We made a rotating schedule for that, putting two of us on each trip. As far as cleaning, we obviously kept up after ourselves but in addition scheduled a monthly cleaning date. Everybody was expected to be there with gloves on and we gave the whole a house a thorough once over. We also got a pool put up out back. Nothing fancy, just an above ground five footer, but the boys built a pretty kick ass deck off of the back porch that surrounded the pool on one side and gave us a place to lay out in the sun and grill and whatnot.

Now I don't mean to make this sound like it happened overnight or without any growing pains. My life breezed past over the next ten months during which all of this stuff was established, ironed out, changed and reborn. And there were more than a few occasions where one or two of us had tried our damnedest to kill each other. But Gran kept us in check for the most part, settling into her role as Mother Hen and thriving in it. Her hip healed perfectly and she became the mother figure a lot of us had grown up without.

At first, I was a little overwhelmed and pretty freaked out as my friends started invading my space one by one. I had always been pretty independent, though I did love each and every one of them, and losing that personal space was hard to adjust to. But I knew they would all do it for me if they could and once I got used to it, I couldn't remember what life had been like without them up my ass 24/7. It was nice to come home to people who cared about you and share a meal with them. And compliment them on their cooking (Lala). And bitch at them for stealing your make up (Lala). And accusing them of trying on your clothes (Lala). What I guess I'm trying to say is, it was nice to have a family. And that's exactly what we were.

The only thing missing was Eric, who I stalked relentlessly online. I could not stop thinking about him or reliving that night we had spent together. I'd hoped that time would make it fade but it only got more vivid. I even talked my fool self into believing that he was reviewing my damn stories on fanfiction! Honestly though, I think that was just some creeper who enjoyed my stories and was trying to flirt with me in their weird, wayward fashion. I mean, their handle was CreepHole212. Creep hole? Seriously? Anyway, I was always polite to him (please let that have been a him, I couldn't handle a girl writing those ridiculously suggestive reviews) but unfortunately had been so busy falling into my new lifestyle that I had neglected fanfiction to a criminal degree. I hadn't updated for about four months and had even forgotten to make time to read the updates on my favorite stories.

Which is why I shouldn't have been surprised to hear an obnoxiously sexy sounding motor pulling up my drive on that fateful Sunday morning.

"What the hell is that?" Jason asked, fork frozen halfway to his mouth. We were all assembled for breakfast and none of us knew how to answer his question. After a few seconds of ping ponging our eyes at one another, we heard a car door shut and apparently that was our cue. We all dropped our silverware and ran to the front door, pushing each other out of the way. Grown adults, let me remind you. Gran, bless her heart, was calling out for us to take it easy before we knocked a hole in the wall but we could barely hear her over the stampeding of our own feet. We all came skidding to a stop on the front porch and froze for a second. Then the boys were off the porch like a shot, practically licking the car that was parked in the driveway, completely ignoring Amelia as she backed away with her hands up.

"Ames?" I called, rushing down the steps.

"Oh thank God," she muttered, meeting me halfway in a hug. "Who the hell are these people?" I squeezed her for a second, laughing at her words of greeting.

"My family, I'll introduce them as soon as they get done drooling all over your car," I said loudly, hoping to get their attention. No dice. "Not that I'm not ecstatic to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, you dropped off the face of the earth for one," she admonished, eyebrow raised. I gave her a sheepish grin. "Number two, I was bored of the UK for the time being. I found you on Facebook, FYI. Only so many Sookie's in the world and when I saw the name of the town listed on your profile, I looked it up. Realizing the grand population is seven, I knew if I got here I could ask around and find you," she explained. "By the by, is there a reason a very large, orange haired woman at the local Bar and Grill thinks you're the devil in disguise?"

I cracked up at that. "That would be Mrs. Fortenberry and she's bitter that her son Hoyt moved in with me and out of her house," I told her. Before her eyebrow had the chance to get any higher, I explained. "Not what you think! As you can see," I gestured to the house behind me, "I have more than enough room here. So my friends aka family moved in, each one for their own reason. Hoyt was one of them and his Mama has been bitter ever since," I finished.

"More than enough room, you say?" she asked, pointedly straightening out the skirt she was wearing. Her hair was a really pretty fire engine red color and much shorter than the last time I'd seen her; it now graced her chin in a sleek bob cut. Her clothes were basically the same, though. Tight black pencil skirt with a black silk shirt and bright red heels.

"Yes," I said slowly, giving her an inquisitive look.

"Room for one more, do you think?" she fidgeted some more before finally meeting my eyes.

"Well there is one bedroom left on the first floor, but it's pretty small-"

"I'll take it!" she interrupted me. I laughed out loud.

"Well, you're welcome to it, I suppose. Can I ask what's going on?" There was no way I could deny her after she'd flown from England to ask. I just hoped she wasn't in too much trouble.

"Oh just my father being himself, as usual. We got into an argument a week ago and he bet me that I could not make it on my own. So I told him I could definitely make it on my own and to up the ante, I would do it in another country," she puffed her chest out a bit there.

"He cut you off?" I asked, concerned. I knew they didn't get along but according to what she'd said before, he adored her as much as he was annoyed by her.

"God, no!" she shuddered, apparently repelled by the thought. "I just wanted to show him that I have my own connections and don't necessarily need him. Plus I plan to leave his bank accounts alone as much as possible to underline the point," she finished. I snorted. Way to show _him._ By this time, everyone was gathered around. Even Gran was on the porch, shading her eyes with one hand to see what was going on.

"Well, come on in. We'll figure it out," I told her. She exhaled in relief. "We're in the middle of breakfast so I hope you're hungry. You can meet everybody inside," I added. I couldn't help but grin as we all made our way back into the house. I'd been missing Amelia too and as Gran would say: If it looked like fate and smelled like fate, well, it just might be.

**A/N Sorry about the gigundo fluff monster that possessed me for this chapter with all the Brady Buch stuff lol I thought it would be kind of fun and plus, she was all alone in that big old house. Also sorry for cutting out the lemon like that, it was a total a-hole move, I know! I'm just all lemon-ed out for some reason! They're so hard to write, which is weird because in RL- Ok let me stop there lol. Up next, more interaction with all our favorite characters (aka Sook's honorary family) and of course, more Eric and maybe Pam.**


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